Rage Against the Moons
by Malaria Vincent
Summary: Zim cringed as the boy twisted away and wretched. He could see the human’s teeth were already changing too, forming the four long distinctive fangs. The skin around his mouth was already starting to rot. He was, in effect, dying from the outside in.
1. One Veitkleck

A/N- (I'm just going to apologise now. I drank _way_ too much coffee before I wrote this.) Hello friends and neighbours. This is quite the interesting occurrence, Worm babies. I have graced you all with my presence on this…fan…website…thing. Anyone who doesn't care for the severally angsty, emo-goth teenage Dib has my permission to flee. Now. Also, slight ZaDR, if you squint. (In other words, not much at all.)

And dear Jhonen Vasquez, whose organs I would like to take out and put in a bowl and whose spine I would sincerely love to rip out through his throat, hack up and use as candle holders despite my love of his work. I do love to make him cringe. Ha, ha, it brings me great joy! (Really, I've nothing at all against the man. I just wanted to say that because it made me laugh.)

Now read! READ OR SUFFER THE WRATH OF ZIM!

**One-Veitkleck**

It was too bright outside. Dib shut his eyes in an effort to ease the splitting headache he'd developed in his history class earlier that day. He leaned back against the brick wall behind him with a soft sigh. It was all just so boring. High school was really no different than anywhere else he'd ever been, save for the beatings being about ten times worse. He was taller now, about 5'8", and just slightly underweight. He still never saw his father and Gaz still tormented him every chance she got. Yeah. Life was wonderful. The only consolation was the fact that his long-time enemy, Zim, had mellowed a bit and the two had developed a sort of uneasy friendship.

"Hey, freak!" It was the middle of the day, but Dib had been almost asleep when the all-too-familiar voice jolted him awake. A cold rush of fear flooded his system as he looked up at Torque Smacky. The boy had grown considerably in the years since Dib had met him and now resembled a small tank. That wasn't a good thing.

"T-torque…" Dib stuttered a bit and mentally kicked himself for it. "I-my father didn't give me my lunch money today. I really don't-"

The other boy seized him roughly by the arm, dragging him to his feet. The sudden, violent movement combined with the pain caused by the bandages being pressed into his skin made him yelp. He instantly regretted it.

Torque slammed him into the ground, the hard-pact earth jarring him enough to make his heart skip. Torque walked over and casually picked up the money than had fallen out of Dib's pocket. He scoffed as he walked past the younger boy, kicking him hard in the ribs with a laugh and saying, "Serves you right. Freak." Dib thought it was over and started to pick himself up. It hadn't been nearly as bad as he'd expected. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Torque reach down for something several feet away from where he'd landed. Dib's breath caught in his chest when he realised what it was.

"What the hell is this?" the older boy asked, turning the book over in his thick hands. Dib didn't have to look to know that his book bag had fallen open. He'd recognize that book anywhere. "_Inside a Cutter's Mind,_" Torque read with a condescending laugh. He looked back at Dib, still half-lying on the ground, and smirked. "Huh, guess Gretchen was right."

"Told you." The woman herself had appeared from around the corner, arms crossed over her considerable chest and starring daggers at Dib. Out of all of them, she'd changed the most. Her hair was longer and she often wore it down, without the trademark pigtails she'd had in fourth grade. Her face had cleared and she'd gotten her braces taken off years ago. She was a different person. They all were, really, but Gretchen still held onto her grudges like there was no tomorrow. Ever since Dib had refused to acknowledge her when they were children, she'd made it a project of hers to humiliate him whenever she could. But this was different. This crossed a line. If his father found out…Dib sat up, visibly shuddering at the thought.

Gretchen moved to stand beside Torque, continuing, "Told you he liked to..." she paused for effect, "slice and dice." Dib cringed at the crude and almost childish way she put it. It made it sound…horrible. Like he did it for fun.

Dib swallowed hard, clenching his jaw and curling his long fingers around his book bag. He might have cracked his teeth if Torque hadn't chosen that moment to hit him in the head with his book, which Dib scrambled to shove back into his bag. Gretchen was howling with laughter at him, but she sounded far off, like she was at the other end of a tunnel. Torque spat something that Dib could only guess was another insult. To be honest, he didn't really care. He didn't care about anything right now.

Dib stood, dragging his jacket sleeve across his eyes to stop the tears that fell down his cheeks. He shoved his glasses back on and started to walk. Pushing past the two of them, he broke into a run. Somewhere behind him he heard Gretchen laugh, "There he goes! Get the bandages!"

He didn't acknowledge her. He didn't think; he just ran. The tears caused his vision to blur, making him trip several times. Finally, he wound up sitting behind the building with his arms wrapped tightly around himself and making no effort to stop the heart wrenching sobs that wracked his frail body. He was suddenly freezing.

After five, ten, twenty, thirty, forty minutes of this, he'd had enough. He couldn't sit out here, it was too dangerous. Everyone in the school probably already knew by now but somehow actually getting caught was so much worse. He snatched up his bag again and started to walk, completely unaware of time or any feeling beyond the familiar stabbing pain in his chest.

He found himself in the bathroom, leaning over the sink. His body trembled and the hot tears that where starting to fall again where almost searing. That was it. He couldn't stand this anymore.

He dug in his jacket pocket for his father's razor blade, tugging his left sleeve back with his teeth as soon as he felt the clod metal brush his fingertips.

_One._

Because no one ever understands me.

_Two._

Because Father never tries.

_Three._

Because I can't feel anything anymore.

_Four._

Because Gaz is the perfect one, the one he loves, not me.

_Five._

Because everyone ignores me.

_Six. _

Because I'm just tired of it all.

_Seven._

Because I don't want to be here.

He stopped there, breathless and shaking, watching the fresh blood running in delicate lines down his arm, tracing beautiful patterns across his pale skin. He was suddenly so tried, as if the life was draining out of him. Holding the blade as steady as he could manage, he laid it gently against the inside of his wrist.

Dib laughed. It sounded dry, hollow. A horror movie laugh. "Dying at school seems fitting, I guess. But it's not like it really matters anymore." He whispered and drug the blade across his wrist.

His right arm was wrenched back just before the metal bit into his skin. The familiar pressure of just three fingers clamped firmly around his wrist made him gasp.

"Zim!" Dib yelped, dropping the blade and stepping away from the sink but leaving his arm in the Irken's grasp. He saw Zim's lens-covered eyes follow the length of his left arm, slowly as though he where trying to comprehend why someone would do something like that to themselves. Dib was suddenly uneasy. He could almost feel Zim tracing the countless scars that littered his arm. He wasn't quite sure what he was expecting. An explosion of anger, a quiet acceptance? I mean, it wasn't like Zim cared about him at all, right?

"_Da'mehrn_?" Dib jumped slightly at hearing Irken. Zim only rarely used his first language anymore. His voice was strained and barely audible. He swallowed and tried again in English. "Why?"

"Why do you think?" Dib hadn't meant to snap. Not really. It was just that he was sure that his father would ask the same thing after probably receiving a falsely-concerned phone call from the guidance counselor. That and the clear concern in the alien's voice was so out of character that it had caught him completely off guard.

Zim didn't respond. He kept his expression carefully neutral. He'd changed a lot too. Maybe even more than Gretchen. He'd stopped yelling every other word and referring to himself in the third person years ago. He'd grown a lot under Earth's weaker gravity and was nearly Dib's height now, able to easily look him in the eyes whenever they spoke. Though, right now, his artificially blue eyes were locked firmly on the razor blade Dib had dropped in the sink.

"This isn't a big deal, Zim." Dib said simply, hoping he still didn't know enough about how humans thought to buy it.

Zim watched him for a moment and then slowly released his wrist. He didn't move as Dib quickly gathered his bag from the floor. When he reached for the razor blade, Zim said firmly, "Leave it."

Dib froze. It didn't sound like Zim at all. At least, not the Zim he used to know. "It's my father's." he said, unsure for a moment of what would happen if he moved too quickly. "He'll wonder where it is."

"I'm sure he will." Normally, Dib would've picked up the razor blade anyway, but something told him that the situation bothered Zim more than he was letting on and provoking him wouldn't be the smartest thing he'd ever done. What the hell was going on? Zim was so...calm. He was _never_ calm. That was what made Zim..._Zim_.

"Fine." Dib said, acting casual and turning to leave, pulling his sleeve down to hide the dried blood that covered his arms.

"_Tril ne shlift Ik fon Krast dafel  
Schfor shilfk Jn fon Kaen  
Niftel drn Aksoon klifk fortrel_

_son Dreftsnkan"_

Dib stopped mid-stride, listening. Irken really was a fascinating language. There where soft, almost inaudible clicks and rounded vowels. It must be hell to learn, he mused, with all the heavy, Germanic influences he heard.

"That poem…It's your favourite, right, Dib-worm?" Zim asked, slightly snarky in the hopes of lightening the mood a bit. It was instantly clear that that wasn't going to work and he switched back to being uncharacteristically serious. "I think I know why now."

Dib laughed, the sound once again harsh and bitter. He hid how uncomfortable he was with the sudden shift in mood and looked back at the alien over his shoulder. "You know nothing."

**********************

The rest of the day was worse than Dib had thought it'd be, but so far he'd gotten no indication that any of the teachers knew. That was a blessing, at least. But Zim knew.

Zim knew. Dib just couldn't get his head around it. Heh. Had he been in a better mood, he might have found that funny. Why had it seemed like Zim wanted to talk? Zim never wanted to talk. Maybe he was just delirious from blood loss. Or lack of food. Or both.

He stayed in the library long after the school was technically closed, thinking. It was all so stupid. Why did he continue to waste his time trying to save people that didn't seem to care at all if they got destroyed?

Maybe he was on the wrong side.

Dib sat up straight at the small table. Maybe he _was_ on the wrong side. With his brains and Zim's Irken technology, taking over this awful planet would be no challenge at all. A slow grin spread across his face at the thought. Join Zim. That was a wonderful idea.

He stayed in the library for a little while longer, planning out what he would say to Zim. What _could_ he say to Zim? 'I'm tired of this, so now I wanna help you kill everyone I know'? Hopefully he'd be a little more eloquent when the time came. He also planned out what he'd say to his father if he was asked where he was. The only thing he couldn't plan for was what he'd do if Membrane asked where his razor blade was. Despite what he liked to think of himself, he wasn't a good liar around family.

It was after dark when Dib finally left the school. Getting past the security system was painfully simple and it allowed him to come and go whenever he wanted. Not like he ever really wanted to be here if he didn't have to, but it was nice to know the option was there.

It was well past his 'bedtime' as his father still said, so he decided it would be easier in the long run to just take a shortcut and get home as soon as possible. If he was late, that meant that Gaz would once again be the favourite. 'The one I never have to worry about.'

Dib shook his head, brushed his hair out of his face and started to run even though, right then, the very thought of his family made him sick.

Oh, well. That would all change soon enough.

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A/N- Told ya. Extremely angsty, emo-goth 'I'm tired of trying to save the world' Dib. He's kinda hot like this for some reason, which is creepy or not depending on which gender you think I am. (By the way, I am kind of curious to see if people guess correctly or if I'm even more ingenious than I think I am.)

Oh, by the way, Zim's Irken is an actual language that my friend and I came up with. (Yes, I'm _that_ obsessed, right now. Praise me. PRAISE ME! Just don't sue me.) If you can tell me what he said, when I'm ruler of the Earth, your death will be quick and painless. Zim does get more in character in later chapters. Even Dib thought it was weird, how he was acting. There is a reason for it, but I won't just tell you because life isn't nice.

Wow. I'm boring. Do I always explain things like this?

As is always the case, reviews are welcome. Although obnoxious ones will be laughed at, printed out and eaten.


	2. Two Afsngang

A/N- **Tuesday means UFOs.** **Read me. **(Again, didn't edit this, just spat it out last night because I'm an insomniac. I'm also lazy, which should explain why this isn't edited. If it doesn't, you're an idiot.) By the way, I apologise for the first scene. I needed something to push Dib over the edge a bit and this was the first thing that came to mind, (because apparently I enjoy causing the characters I like a lot of…HIDEOUS SCREAMING PAIN!) Seriously, this might be disturbing, depending on what you find disturbing. Not much destruction yet, but believe me, it's comin' like a freight train. I just realised how difficult Zim is to write for so forgive me if he's way off the mark. (I try my best, damn it!)

Anyway, read or go away.

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**Two-Afsngang**

Dib didn't eat much anymore. In fact, he found that he often disliked food. Now he understood a little more where Zim was coming from when he nearly threw up at the sight of the cafeteria food. Eating only when he was on the verge of starving to death as he did gave him a good figure but left him weak, almost frail, when compared to the other sixteen year olds. Of course, other sixteen year olds had a normal life.

He hadn't seen Zim in a week, at least not for long enough to actually talk to him. He finally got tired of waiting around and decided he'd just find the alien at home rather than wait for him to approach him at school. Zim only ever did that to say something insulting to him anyway.

Oh, well.

It was pitch black in the alley he'd have to walk through but it was by far the quickest way home. Something was different this time though. The alleyway felt cold and the air was thick and heavy. He felt uneasy, like something was gnawing at his insides but he ignored it and kept walking.

The soft sound of footsteps behind him made him glance over his shoulder, more out of paranoia then a sense of danger. That changed when several men blocked the alleyway in front of him.

"Move." Dib sighed, annoyed. He didn't have time for this.

"What's the magic word?" the leader asked. Dib flinched at the sound. The tone of his voice was far too familiar. Uncomfortable to say the least.

"Now." Fear started to claw at his ribcage, but he shoved the feeling away. He knew in the back of his mind that he couldn't handle all these guys if a fight started. There were four in front of him and at least three behind him, all way too close for comfort and – dare he say – leering at him.

The leader laughed quietly. "He's feisty."

Feisty? Did people even say that anymore?

A strangled yelp ripped from Dib's throat when one or the men from behind wrapped his arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides.

"Let go!" Dib yelped as he was easily lifted off his feet. He snapped his leg back, catching the man in the knee and breaking it with a sickening crunch. He was dropped roughly to the ground as the man, whose name was apparently Vinnie, howled and clutched his leg, hopping backwards and eventually sitting down hard on his tailbone.

Instead of helping him, the others jumped for Dib as soon as he hit the ground, pushing him onto his back and pinning his arms down while two others laid across his legs to keep him from kicking. Dib managed to get one arm free, catching one of the men in the face with a vicious backhand. He didn't get far though and soon the leader of the group was standing over him, looking at him with a glint in his eye that sent a shiver up the younger man's spine.

"Told ya." The leader, Mark, leaned down, brushing the one long lock of hair out of Dib's face so he could see his eyes. "He's a fighter. I love it when they fight. We don't get many like this. He's pretty." As he spoke, Mark drug the blade of a small knife down the side of his throat. Dib clenched his teeth. He wasn't sure where this was going, but the idea that sprang to mind nearly made him sick. He wanted to yell and scream and kick and bite but he couldn't. He was scared and he knew Mark could see that the second he smiled at him.

Everything seemed to slow down then. Mark twisted a hand into the front of his shirt, holding him down and crawling over him, ripping the knife into his clothes. The others laughed and tightened their hold on the boy as Dib thrashed against them, kicking as well as he could and screaming, hoping someone was nearby. He bit at the other's hands if they touched him, but he couldn't do much about Mark. The well-controlled screams for help changed abruptly when the man started to tear at the bondage pants he wore.

Still nothing. No one willing to step out of their comfort zone. Blocking out the sudden pain as well as he could, he looked back towards the street. Dib clenched his teeth so hard he nearly cracked them, the tears causing the heavy black eyeliner he wore to run. He could clearly see them walking past, little more than fifteen feet from him, without as much as a glance his way.

_I told you, _hissed the voice in his head. The one he'd ignored nearly all his life. _This world is rotten. There's no hope for anything any more, not even destruction. If you don't believe me, just look at the situation you're in now. How many sixteen-year-olds do you think have been in you position because of people like them. Can you tell me they don't deserve to die a horrible death?_

The words were a comfort, a way to keep his mind off of the nightmarish reality he was suddenly thrown into. He kept staring at the street, eyes going glassy. He'd stopped screaming. Hell, he'd stopped caring. This was the last piece of the puzzle. All the proof he needed that everything he'd always thought in the back of his mind was really true. They all deserved to die.

After what seemed like hours, the others let him go, actually laughing as Mark lead them away as if nothing had happened. Dib, on the other hand, couldn't move. He clutched his trench coat around him, shivering in pain and disgust. The media would have a field day with this. Professor Membrane's 'delinquent' son raped in an alley, of all places.

Not like they'd ever find out. Even if his father knew, he'd probably tell Dib he was insane, again, and that it never even happened.

_It doesn't matter anyway, _said the voice. _Before too long, nothing will matter anymore._

Dib actually laughed as he pulled himself to his feet, wincing and fixing his clothes as best as he could. The shirt was trashed but the jeans could be salvaged. It was almost funny, he realised now that the thought was conscious. All he needed to actually talk to Zim was one more piece of evidence that this world deserved to die, and there it was. Proof that he was right. The very last straw.

**********************

Dib flinched, pulling the sheets over his eyes to block out the sunlight that streamed through his window. He shifted under the thin layer of cloth, flinching as the memories of the previous night came flooding back. His body ached from the stress and made it very difficult to want to move much. He was still dressed, having come straight home and collapsed on his bed without even bothering to take his 'Johnny the Homicidal Manic' style boots off. Still, he couldn't lie here all day. He needed to find Zim soon if he was going to be any use at all.

Dimly, he heard music from the other side of his room. His stereo. He'd turned it on when he'd gotten home last night in an effort to take his mind off of...everything. Realising he didn't care that much, he left it play as he walked to his dresser. He limped slightly and was a bit off balance, but other than that he was fine. Right?

One glance in the mirror told him how wrong he was. Dib couldn't even hold his gaze for more than a second without looking away. All the fear and disgust and pain he should have felt last night suddenly hit him full force and he leaned heavily on the dresser, shaking. Subconsciously, he almost laughed at how well the music fit just then. Linkin Park's 'Breaking the Habit'.

After a few moments he stood up straight, calmer now but still unsteady. He pulled a hand through his hair and tugged at his coat, freezing when his eyes fell to the long rip in the side. It was such a simple thing, just a tear in an old trench coat. But it was more than enough right then.

Dib put his head back, laughing softly. Glancing back at his bed, he saw the blood. A shock, yes, but less so the more he thought about it. Still…

The laugh was louder now. Not loud like Zim's, but loud. It changed suddenly into a kind of sobbing hysteric laughter normally reserved for horror movies. He wrenched the sheets from his bed, dropping to his knees and snarling under his breath, "Of course I fought. But it's not like I really had a choice."

_Of course you didn't. _The voice was calm, almost amused. _But do you really think people will believe you?_

Dib jumped to his feet, drawing his breath in with a sharp hiss at the pain. He froze when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He – or rather, his reflection – was standing with his arms crossed, watching him past that one long piece of hair that always hung in his face. Because he hadn't bothered to clean himself up, the makeup had dried in long streaks on his face, giving him the look of a street whore in a bad movie.

"Who the hell are you?" he snapped. The paranormal was one thing, hallucinations were another.

The other boy smiled. _I'm the real Dib. _He said lightly, almost laughing. _See? No one really likes you after all, and no one likes someone with a tarnished reputation._

"What?" Look at him, he was arguing with himself…and losing!

_Get it? Your father kept you around to keep up appearances because you where his perfect son. But you're just all filthy now. You're like a slut. _The other boy linked his hands behind his back, stepping back and phasing through the wall to lean on the windowsill from the outside. _No one loves you because you're tarnished and…you're filthy. _

Dib stepped up to the mirror, snarling like a feral dog. He grabbed a shorter jacket from the back of his desk chair, tied it around his wrist and put his hand through the mirror. The glass cut into him as he drew his arm back, running down his fingers. Not even thinking, he brought his hand up and wrote the only Irken word he really knew on the shattered glass in his own blood: Traitor.

A bit melodramatic, yes, but it fit the moment. Dib let his injured hand rest on the dresser, slipping to his knees and closing his eyes. His body ached and all he really wanted to do was sleep.

A sharp rap on the door caused him to jump. "Son, are you alright in there?" Professor Membrane's voice made him flinch but Dib answered as calmly as he could.

"Yeah, Dad. I'm fine."

"Well, alright. Oh by the way, your little foreign friend is downstairs. He says he wants to talk to you."

"Zim?" Dib picked his head up. Why the hell was Zim here? He waited until he heard the man walk away and began to dig the glass out of his hand. Did Zim tell him anything? No. He wouldn't have been that calm if he had. But what other reason would he have for being here?

About twenty minutes later, Dib stood in front of the alien himself, drying his hair with a towel. The shower had helped but not nearly as much as he'd hoped. "Why the fuck are you here?" he hissed, watching the Irken closely.

"Well, you're charming today, aren't you, Dib-thing?" was the response in Zim's usual slightly raspy but still pinched voice. "I came here because it's obvious that your parental unit is not as attentive as seems to be required by your kind."

"No, he's not, now why are you really here?" Dib was already impatient, stressed out, angry and humiliated. He didn't need Zim making it worse.

The Irken sighed heavily, pulling a two-fingered hand through his artificial black hair. He didn't really want to talk to Dib about this, but he needed the input of someone intelligent, so that ruled out talking to GIR.

"My Tallest…" Zim started, unsure of how to finish the sentence. "They won't talk to me anymore." It sounded terribly childish and weak coming from him but it was the truth. The Tallest had apparently blocked Zim from calling them a few years ago.

"So what do you want me to do?" Dib crossed his arms, looking down at the alien sitting at the table. Zim looked up at him like a lost puppy, eyes wide and slightly hurt. This made no sense. Zim had always harped on the fact that Invaders needed no one. Why the hell was he suddenly acting so…human?

A soft flicker of some strange emotion made Dib shift his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He wasn't sure of exactly what it was but it wasn't wholly unpleasant. It was a warm feeling deep in his chest, like something had sparked a small fire in his ribcage.

Zim didn't seem to notice his shifting. The Irken suddenly stood, leaning heavily on the table and hissing, "I need your help." His voice was slightly thick with a strange accent Dib could only guess was Irken, causing the phrase to fall somewhere between a Londoner's lilt and a Berliner's clipped, heavier speech.

Dib actually laughed. "You," he said, "want help? My help, no less?" This was too perfect.

Zim's long-fingered hands tightened on the edge of the table as though he'd throw it across the room at any moment. "You're the only one who can help me now." He spat the sentence out like it burned him. He could handle losing a fight because it just meant wounds to his body, but this…this hurt his pride.

"They left me here because they don't like me. They don't think I can do anything. I want to show them," he breathed, "that I'm not a failure." He risked looking up into the human's eyes for a moment before moving to stand by the side of the table. "They'll see they were wrong. Leaving me alone like this. They'll rue the day they messed with ZIM!"

The Irken slammed his hand down on the table at the last, causing Dib to jump. "But I need your help. I'm not stupid. I know I can't take them on my own."

Dib looked at him a little more closely then. "What are you planning?" he asked, curious now. He saw Zim smile.

"I want to go back." He said. "I want to go back and bring them down. Even though Zim shouldn't have to." The smile faded and he was suddenly angry again. "**I** should have been an Invader. **I** should have been Tallest. Ishouldn't _have_ to be stealing my home planet from _them_!"

Dib watched Zim with mild amusement until he calmed down again. "You sound like Tak." He said, smirking as Zim crossed his arms over his thin chest, his breathing slightly ragged from yelling. "But I see your point."

The younger boy placed one boot on the opposite chair, stepping up to sit on the table, something he could never get away with when his dad was at home. He kept his left leg still, swinging his right in an unnervingly child-like way. "But I don't think I can help."

Zim's jaw would have hit the floor if it wasn't connected so strongly to the rest of his head. Before he started to rant Dib quickly cut him off. "Because I'm not the real me, after all."

Understandably, Zim was completely lost by that point and couldn't even form words anymore. Dib bit back a laugh and stared at the ceiling. "Have you ever thought that if you stopped doing something that defined you as a person that you would cease to be that person?" It was a pointless question to ask someone like Zim but he said it anyway.

Dib stopped swinging his leg, finally clarifying when he realised he was basically talking to himself again. "I want to help. But I can't very well just leave. Like it or not, people know who I am. At least, they think they do."

"So, you...You will help Zim?"

"If it means getting off this rock, than yes."

"But why? This...rock is your home."

"Maybe. But here I'm surrounded by people that put me down, call me insane, beat me to a bloody pulp on a daily basis, make me do this" – he wrenched up his left sleeve for emphasis – "and generally make my life a living hell." He decided to leave out last night. He didn't want to think about it right now and if the thought did cross his mind it nearly made him sick.

Those bastards would be the first ones to die.

Dib jumped lightly off of the table, landing with a surprising grace. "I guess we're not so different." He mused. "Even before you got here I had my moments. Some days I wished the sun would just explode and burn this city to the ground. But now I realise...I'd rather do it myself."

Zim watched him with an expression somewhere between amusement and low-grade horror. He smiled a bit then, showing his teeth and laughing low in his throat. "You're right, Dib-worm." He said, falling back into his old habit of adding some strange insult to his name. "And _we _won't fail. No planet can stand against the Armada."

Zim had changed so much in the past five years, but deep down he was exactly the same. Right then, with that playful, sadistic smirk twisting his lips, Dib could have almost called him attractive. Almost.

Turning on his boot-heel, Dib faced the small window over the sink. Yes. This city, the one he'd always thought was so beautiful at night, would be the first to disappear.

He'd see to that himself.

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A/N- Anyone who can guess where the thing with the mirror came from gets extra points (and a charming gift basket).

Reviews are welcome. Yeah. I guess. I'm going back to bed.


	3. Three Sufterkrul

A/N- **Due to an unsatisfactory performance in the last chapter, today will be devoted to having your minds erased. **Seriously, I wasn't really happy with the last one. Very short chapter this time, slightly more human side of Dib and blah, blah, blah, birds sing and you're gonna pay. Here's your story covered in barbeque sauce!

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**Three- Sufterkrul**

"This is…This is Tak's ship, isn't it?" Zim stared up at what was indeed the other Invader's ship, sitting in the middle of the garage like a common earth car. "How did you…?"

"Salvaged what I could and rebuilt the rest myself." Dib answered casually, climbing up to stand on the edge of the ship like he owned it. Zim scowled. He didn't want to be impressed by the human's knowledge of Irken technology but he had to admit…he doubted he could do any better.

"So what's the plan?" Dib asked as Zim clambered into the cockpit, looking around like he'd never seen the ship before. "You do have one, right?"

"Yes, hyuman." Zim snapped, placing his hands on the controls for a moment before reaching forward and hitting a few buttons, switching the menu language back to Irken. He shot Dib a look before continuing. "There was a slowly growing resistance movement against the Tallest when I left. If I can make it back to Irk, I can round up a team from them. If they're still alive, that is."

Dib looked thoughtful. "How long will it take to get back?" he asked.

Zim closed his eyes for a minute. He always had trouble with time conversion. "About six months." He answered, scrolling through the operations manual.

"Six months?" Dib repeated. "Hang on a sec." he jumped down from the edge of the ship and started to walk back into the house.

"Hey!" Zim stood up in the cockpit. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Hyumans," Dib began, mimicking Zim, "don't survive well without their things." At the look Zim gave him, he explained, "It's just one bag. I'll be right back."

He thought he heard Zim mutter something about 'hyumans and their bags' before he stepped back into the empty house. His room felt strangely unfamiliar now that he knew he wouldn't be coming back. He tried not to think too much about it or he might chicken out as he threw several old clothes into a canvas bag.

Even though he did his best not to look around at what was his home, one thing did catch his eye: their piano.

His mother's piano, to be exact. Dib stopped for a moment and then moved to sit on the bench like he had all those years ago when his mother had taught him to play. Brushing his fingers over the fine layer of dust that had collected on the keys almost made him miss her. Curious, he pressed down on a few keys.

"It's still in tune." He whispered, smiling slightly. Subconsciously at first, he began to pick out the scale and move slowly into 'Moonlight Sonata', playing flawlessly from memory.

Out in the garage, Zim's antenna twitched at the noise. He picked his head up to listen better, curious at the new sound. Eventually, he climbed out of the ship to investigate.

Dib held the keys down until the last notes had faded completely, his eyes flickering open again. A soft shifting from somewhere off to his left made him jump. "Zim," he breathed, "How long have you been there?"

"What is that?" The Irken cocked his head at the piano.

"A baby grand piano. An instrument." Zim seemed to understand that so Dib continued, softer. "This was my mother's. She died when I was eight. She taught me to play when I was really young but no one's touched this thing since. Too many memories, I guess."

Zim watched him, unsure of what to think. He seemed…sad, but at the same time a bit relieved. It made no sense.

"Hey," Dib said, turning on the bench to face him, "Where's GIR? I mean, you're not just gonna leave him here, are you?"

"Of course not." Zim told him, but the look on his face made it clear that he'd completely forgotten about the little robot. A small communicator on a long metal arm extended from the Pak, hanging just in front of Zim. "GIR!" the Irken barked. "Come to Zim."

The metal arm retracted and soon enough a loud shrill scream could be heard in the distance, getting louder as whatever was making it drew closer. Then the door exploded.

"Hi!" GIR waved from the now forcefully opened doorway.

"GIR, go get in the cruiser. We're going home."

"YAY!" GIR began running around the room, squealing at the top of his voice and finally disappearing into the garage. Dib took his hands away from his ears and gave Zim a 'you haven't fixed him yet?' kind of look. The Irken spread his hands in the air, palms out and shrugged slightly.

Dib stood, grabbing his bag from the floor. "Come on." he said as he started to walk. "We're burning daylight." Like that really mattered much. Zim followed him into the garage, climbing into the pilot's chair. GIR babbled on and on about having head 'splody from all the excitement while Zim tried his level best not the wreck the ship before they even got off of the planet.

Dib sighed, burying his face in his hands. Six months suddenly seemed like a very long time.

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A/N- Yeah, short chapter, I know. I uh…don't really have a lot to say, so uh…yeah.

Reviews are good. I guess. Whatever.


	4. Four Dregmar

A/N- **I've run out of Zim-related opening statements! **Today there will be a twist that I bet a lot of you didn't expect. Pay attention. You will be quizzed on this. (Hey, there's one! YAY!)

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**Four- Dregmar **

Dib was writing in his journal again. He'd been doing that more and more during the last few weeks. He laid in the backseat of Tak's ship somewhere in some uncharted region of space. He'd stopped thinking about just how far he was from home months ago. It always made him feel cold inside.

Zim had locked the controls and let GIR play with the wheel for the last several weeks. The robot was still just as giddy as ever and it was starting to wear on his nerves.

Suddenly a surprisingly soft antenna lightly touched the edge of his hair, causing Dib to jump a bit. Zim sat up straight and pressed both his antenna flat against his head, looking a bit embarrassed. He was crouching by Dib's shoulder, hands held up in front of his chest like an alien bug.

"Why?" was the only question Dib could think to ask.

"You smell different." Zim cocked his head as he spoke, much like an inquisitive puppy.

Dib closed his journal with a snap. "Almost six months on a spaceship with only sonic showers can do that to a person."

Zim watched him shift a bit so that he was more comfortable against the outer wall of the ship. "Actually, I noticed it when you came downstairs."

Dib tensed visibly, hands clutching his journal close to his chest as though it would protect him. "Oh, that."

Zim flinched as GIR launched himself at the windshield, screaming something about tacos and laughing insanely. He ran in circles around them for a good five minutes before Zim snapped a hand out, catching GIR firmly by the head. A sharp flick of the Irken's wrist removed the robot's head entirely, momentarily covering its body in a shower of sparks. Dib pressed himself into the seat, eyes wide behind his glasses.

"H-he-" he fought for the words for a moment. "He didn't do anything to you." He sounded completely horrified at this strange and overall unprovoked act of violence. Something in him finally realised what he was doing, where he was and who he was with. Zim would simply kill him if he got in the way, wouldn't he?

No. No, that wasn't right. In all their years knowing each other, Dib had never really felt like he was ever in any real danger when Zim was around. In fact, he felt…safe. Like there was someone else who hated humanity as much as he did, even if he wouldn't admit it at the time. Maybe that was what had led him to try and stop Zim for so long instead of joining up with him in the first place.

Normally, his attention would be focused on his journal, as he'd likely written down most of these thoughts but right now he was focused on the alien kneeling not three feet from him.

"What hasn't he done?" Zim replied, not looking at him. "Can you name one plan of mine that he hasn't screwed up?"

"That's no reason to kill him." Dib sat up, putting his feet on the floor as though it would keep him from feeling nauseous and, as much as he hated to admit it, still a little scared. "He didn't do anything to you." he said again. "If it where some low-class, back-alley rapist, I could see it, but your own sidekick-"

"So that's it." Zim kept his voice completely neutral. "I've heard about it. In history. The 'Old Crimes'." Dib picked his head up to look at him. His gaze had fallen to his hands which were clenched in his lap as he spoke.

He laughed a bit, more out of shock than actual amusement. "Wow. And I thought you were stupid."

Zim only smirked at the statement. "First," he said, pointing almost lazily to the spot where GIR's body had been. "He's fine." He was right. High, shrill laughter reached Dib's ears and he saw that the little robot's body was running around, kicking its head like a soccer ball.

"Second," Zim brought the same hand over to lightly press against Dib's cheek, turning the human's head to look him. He left his hand up for a moment, letting his fingertips rest gently on the younger boy's cheekbone. "I'm not as dumb as you look." That crooked smirk tugged at his mouth again. Dib smiled a bit. There it was. An actual, provable instance of the comfort he inexplicably felt around someone so radically different from him.

Dib shifted his hands slightly, wincing at the sudden pain the action caused. Zim dropped his arm down to touch the boy's hands, gently uncurling his long fingers. There were deep puncture wounds in the human's hands from digging his nails into his palms. Zim flinched a bit when he uncurled Dib's fingers. The sight of blood didn't bother him in the least, but the sharp, metallic scent bit at him, causing him to press his antenna back against his head again.

"This," Zim placed his hands in Dib's. "Why do humans do things like this?"

There was no simple answer so Dib gave the best one he could. "Because we don't like ourselves much." He, like Zim, kept his gaze fixed on their interlocked hands, mismatched but comfortable together, like most of their relationship. The strange feeling of the Irken's two-fingered hands in his was an unexpected comfort.

"_**Proximity warning. Planet ahead."**_ The computer's voice caused them both to flinch. Zim turned to watch the screen, leaving his hand in Dib's for a few seconds longer than he actually needed to. He stood with a surprising grace, half-turned toward the front windshield and using just his legs to push himself up. Dib lowered his head and curled his hands up again. About a thousand thoughts had gone through his head right then and almost none of them were appropriate.

Zim stepped over GIR and moved to the control panel, tapping the screen and unlocking the controls. Dib looked down at his hands, only now registering how cold Zim's hands had been even through his gloves. He also realised how warm his skin felt now. When his mind finally caught up, he saw that every puncture wound in his hands had disappeared.

"A chemical infused into the gloves." Zim told him from the pilot's chair. "Designed to heal a solider in battle." There was an almost bitter note to the last, as though he was mocking them. Dib could sympathise with the pain of being left to die by your own race, but only as much as his experience would allow. He often forgot that the Irkens were, above all else, a military race. He'd never really thought of Zim as a solider but deep down, in both training and design, that's what he was.

"I always wondered how you recovered so quickly." Dib walked to stand by Zim's side, still flexing his hands. GIR had managed to reattach his head and now pointed eagerly out the window at a large planet surrounded by a heavy blood-red mist.

"Oo, what's that?" He asked, jumping up and down. "What is it?"

Zim started to answer, "That is-"

"What is it?"

"That-"

"What is it?" Zim laughed through his teeth, clearly annoyed. He grabbed GIR by the head and for a moment Dib thought he'd simply rip it off again. Instead, the Irken set the little robot firmly on the dashboard where he couldn't get into too much trouble.

"That is Irk." He said, setting his hands back on the console.

"Seems kinda quiet for a military planet." Dib mused. Zim hit a few buttons, running scans of the planet's surface. He seemed suddenly nervous. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It- It's perfectly fine." Zim scanned the Irken text that scrolled across the screen. "This isn't right." He whispered, standing and leaning heavily on the console. He took a deep breath and spoke steadily. "Computer. Run a scan for life forms on the planet's surface. Check all underground levels as well."

"_**Scan complete."**_ The result of the computers scans was displayed on the small screen under Zim's hand. Dib couldn't see the result. He didn't have to.

Zim dropped to his knees as though his legs wouldn't support him anymore, clenching his hands on the control panel. "Oh, my Tallest, no…" he hissed through his teeth, his voice shaking slightly from some new, intense emotion. He could've told himself they'd all gone to join the Tallest and the Armada, but that made no sense. Not every Irken was a soldier. It made absolutely no sense to completely abandon the planet that had been their home forever.

They were gone. Slaughtered. Even from here, inside a sealed spaceship, he thought the heavy, sickeningly sweet scent of blood reached him, biting deep into his heart as though it would never let him go. And even if it did, he knew it wouldn't be because it cared.

Dib reached out to rest his hand on the Irken's shoulder, his eyes falling to the bright green writing backlit on the small display screen.

Life forms: 0

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A/N- Bet ya didn't see that comin', now did ya? No, it's actually quite sad. And the twists will keep coming. Because I get bored easily.

A lot of people are reading this but I'm not getting that many reviews. So why don't I just address it and ask nicely? Whhyyyy?! So I did. I guess. Yeah.


	5. Five Necrokaufen

A/N- **Class, today's horrible twist is about something horrible. Scroll down on your horrible screens and start reading. **Seriously, this is awful. If you haven't eaten yet, I advise doing so before reading this. You probably won't feel like it after.

Guess who changed the category and summary because they can't make up their minds? Yep. Me. I can't seem to write a non-horror story. I can start out with sunshine and happy thoughts and suddenly the unicorns are stabbing each other and the flowers are spitting acid. It's like a disease. I need help. Just not right now. I managed to get Emotionally-Wounded Zim, Slightly-Caring Zim, and Very-Cool Grown-Up Zim all in one chapter. (Praise me. PRAISE ME!!)

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**Five- Necrokaufen **

Zim leaned carefully against what remained of a metal wall, staring out over the wasteland he once called home. His left arm was tucked under his right and his right hand rested as lightly as possible against his chest. It was getting harder to breathe.

"My God." Dib whispered, standing up in the ship. He stepped slowly out to the ground and was instantly pulled to his knees by the sudden intense gravity. He could stand, but it wasn't exactly easy. GIR had disappeared almost as soon as they landed and Zim had hardly spoken at all. Currently the other was walking slowly into what must have been a city square in another life.

Dib clutched his coat around him, feeling very out of place and self-conscious even though it was painfully obvious how little attention Zim was paying to anything right then. In his defense, the surrounding area looked like a war zone; the buildings, or rather, what was left of them, looked as though they'd been ripped apart by some massive explosion and several still burned. Above them hung the twisted metal frame of something Dib couldn't quite identify, possibly a rigging or catwalk strung between buildings. What seemed the strangest just then was in fact something very common on Earth: a deep pool of water under the metal frame.

Zim was sitting on the scorched ground several yards away from him with his long legs folded under him. He kept his head down, thin hands twisted into the sleeves of his uniform and arms wrapped tightly around his bleeding heart. The shriek that ripped from his throat was like nothing Dib had ever heard. It didn't sound like Zim anymore. The human pressed his hands over his ears, trying to block out the sound, deafening despite the distance between them. The scream was high-pitched and grating, like you always heard in those old sci-fi horror movies. The force of the sound made it feel like something was pressing against his chest. It felt like the air was burning.

The silence that followed was broken only by the Irken's ragged breathing. "What the hell is on this planet?" he whispered in a strangled rasp. A strange question to most but it was the only conclusion that made any sense. No planet would be stupid enough to attack them so that only left one possibility. No. No, that couldn't be it. It couldn't survive this far out in the galaxy. Unless…

Zim picked his head up, a quiet gasp escaping him. He jumped up, catching himself on the metallic spider legs that extended from the Pak and disappearing into the ruined city.

"Hey!" Dib barked after him. Getting no answer, he scoffed and murmured something a bit unpleasant under his breath. He sighed, putting his head back and closing his eyes for a minute. When he opened then again, he saw the mutilated catwalk up above him. Oh well. Zim hadn't told him to stay put, after all so he might as well explore a bit while he was here.

Climbing the twisted riggings was harder than he thought it would be but soon enough Dib was walking carefully along the slightly buckled metal walk held in place by a complex-looking system of pipes and thick cables. He kept one hand on the rusted railing, looking straight ahead. He'd had a fear of falling ever since he was nearly dropped into the city cesspool by, ironically, the same ship he flew here in.

Something flashed across his field of vision in a blur of colour but disappeared before he could really process what he saw. Whatever it was had apparently jumped over the catwalk and disappeared behind a large piece of a ruined building. Dib leaned over the railing only as much as his phobia would allow him to, trying to catch sight of it again. It didn't look like anything he'd seen before. Of course, Zim wasn't something he'd seen before either.

But this was different. Whatever it was looked…mangled. The brief glimpse he'd gotten of the creature had sent a cold rush of fear up his spine. He looked after it for several minutes before giving up and leaning on the railing.

_Well, that's not like you at all. _Dib jumped and tensed, whirling around at the sudden sound of the voice. _Right here. _Below him. Turning and fighting the instant paranoia, he looked down to see that the pool of water was directly below him. It looked murky and deeper that it really should be but even from this height, he could clearly see his reflection in the glassy surface.

_This is kinda sad._ _You used to love to go running after monsters like your life depended on it. _

"Who the hell are you?" Dib hissed, looking down at his younger self, still dressed in his old black trench coat with his hair up in the old scythe look he wore all through elementary school.

_Don't you get it? _His reflection spread his arms and laughed. _I'm the real Dib._

"Not this again. Okay, I'm insane, I get it." Dib snarled, brushing his hair out of his face. He couldn't believe he ever thought he could pull that look off. A stupid thought, yes, but sufficient to keep his mind largely off the situation at hand.

_Not insane, just stubborn. That was the cause of all of this. _As he spoke, Dib's reflection raised his arms, indicating the ruins that surrounded him.

"I didn't do this." Dib said, looking around at the destruction reflected in the water.

_Are you sure? The real Dib was on Earth after all, so where were you? I'm still a paranormal investigator, you know. I'd never do anything like this, but you…you always were a problem. _

"You're not even making any sense." Dib barked, stepping back from the railing with the intention of getting off of the catwalk as soon as he could. Maybe their really was something wrong with him. A blur of colour off to his left caught his eye, making him jump. The creature from before, or something similar, landed heavily on the metal platform just ahead of him. The shockwave knocked him hard on his tailbone as the thing jumped up to the roof of a near-by building.

The snapping of the metal under him caused Dib to clutch at the railing in something resembling fear. Suddenly the rusted platform snapped the corroded riveting that held the catwalk together, snapping the piece he was sitting on free from the rest of the structure. Dib slid, clawing at the rails and kicking. The drop was longer than he'd thought and he hit the water hard enough to knock him out for several seconds.

He was jolted awake moments later by the feeling of claws wrapping tightly around his leg and pulling him farther under the water. Dib clenched his teeth, his lungs already burning as he kicked at whatever had grabbed him. He couldn't see through the heavy, almost translucent pint tint of the water, but he saw enough to know that was a blessing.

The scene under the water was something out of a horror movie. Zim had been right when he'd said 'no survivors'. The small bodies where contorted, some even ripped completely open, exposing the one organ that had sustained them. Several had had their lower jaws ripped off, leaving their vocal cords floating in the water in front of them like puppet strings. Had he been able to breathe, he would have thrown up. He knew what the tinge in the water was now. Blood. Irken blood.

Dib snapped his leg back and felt it connect with whatever held him, causing it to release him with a shriek. It reached an unnaturally long arm up, wrenching him back by his hair. Dib screamed, the deluded blood filling his lungs and coating his throat with a sharp, sickeningly sweet taste. His eyes were slowly going glassy as he looked up to the surface of the lake, watching something else he couldn't for the life of him identify shifting just on the other side of the water. He wondered if it would simply jump in and rip his throat out. And then, everything went black.

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Zim fell back a step on his spider legs, looking from the piece of the metal walkway that was now hanging by the few heavy industrial cables that had been strung along the underside to the pool of water that 'that' scent was coming from. The Irken ground his teeth. According to the scanner he'd picked up in one of the ruined buildings, whatever this really was, it had the same properties as the water on Earth. But if he was right about what happened, he didn't really have much choice.

He took a deep breath and jumped in. The water instantly seared his skin as he used the spider legs to swim, trying to move as fast as he could. He stopped cold when he saw the bodies. He had been right. It figured, the one time he really hoped he was wrong he was given proof of the opposite.

Another creature similar to the one that held Dib yanked on his arm, only to be blasted in what remained of its chest by the Irken equivalent of a handgun. The creature holding Dib shrieked at him, exposing a multi-jointed jaw with two fixed lower fangs. The top two seemed to be able to move independently as it spat at him, but released the human and swam back down towards the bottom of the pond. If there even was one.

Zim snagged an arm around Dib's waist and drug them both to the surface, all but crawling onto the ground and pulling them as far away from the pond as he could. He kept his antenna pressed flat against his head, unable to hear anything but the blood rushing through his veins. In a few moments if occurred to him that that was all he could hear.

Curious, he leaned closer to the human, who hadn't moved since he'd drug him up on dry land. Silence. Dib's heart had stopped.

"Damn it." Zim hissed through his teeth. He'd always thought CPR was a bit disgusting. Though not nearly as much as the rest of health class. Snarling under his breath, he cringed and leaned down, pinching the human's nose. Dib owed him for this.

Thankfully it had only been around a minute since the younger boy had lost consciousness and he began to cough up the blood-heavy water fairly quickly. Zim sat back, drawing his sleeve across his mouth and spitting. His antenna twitched, catching the sound of Dib's weak, fluttering heartbeat.

"How stupid," Zim snarled, moving to lean against what remained of the outer wall of a building. "Relying on an organ like that." The human's heart was such a simple thing. If it stopped, that was it. No ten minute warning, no real chance for survival in most cases. Stupid.

A cold chill raced through the alien as he took his eyes from Dib, who was now breathing more easily on his own; he looked up at the pond they'd crawled out of not ten minutes ago. Luckily, the Control Brains had been right in their theory that certain types couldn't move above water. But how in hell had they even gotten here in the first place? He didn't think anything like them could survive this far out.

The small scanner he'd found told him that, aside from the creatures in the pool, there were no others around. That was good news, at least. He didn't want to bother trying to carry Dib right now and he'd lost track of GIR. Perfect.

Sitting against the wall was far from comfortable but it was better than being in the water. Zim actually shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. A very human gesture really but, in reality, a universal one. His skin had stopped burning but his clothes were still soaked, leaving him very cold now that his adrenaline was starting to cut off. He pulled one leg against his chest, resting his arm on his knee and watching the human boy sleep only a few feet from him. He seemed quite peaceful despite the nightmarish circumstances he found himself in.

The boy stirred gently and turned on his side. He kept his eyes closed tight and curled his long legs against his chest. Scared, even in his dreams. It was just slightly depressing, really. Zim put his head down and shut his eyes. He wasn't tired but he was paranoid. His antenna twitched, trying to pick up any small sound, just in case. Soon enough, though, he began to tune out certain sounds and eventually laid the antenna down completely, almost as if he'd fallen asleep.

*********************************

It was suddenly warm. Zim's strangely-coloured eyes flickered open to find Dib curled against his chest like a lost puppy. He almost made him move, pushed him away like a troublesome child. It was a knee-jerk reaction than seemed weaker then it should've been. In fact, almost all of his previous feelings toward, well, everything had been weaker lately. He'd been tired and his thoughts had been cloudy. He thought he knew why but he hoped he was wrong. He really hoped he was wrong.

A soft scuffling sound from above them made him jump. He wrapped an arm around Dib, catching his shoulder and shaking him. A small, watched-sized scanner strapped to his wrist over his glove showed at least seven of them. Dib murmured something but picked his head up.

"What?" He asked in a sleep-fogged voice, rubbing his eyes. He'd apparently forgotten he'd nearly drowned.

"We need to move." It was rare that the tone of someone's voice, especially Zim's, could make him nervous. Dib was instantly awake. He sat up, letting Zim move so that he was crouching by the wall rather than sitting.

"GIR!" the alien barked, catching the collar of his uniform.

"Yes, my lord!" Answered the robot.

"Go to the ship."

"Sir!"

"A radio in the collar." Dib said softly. As usual he was fascinated by the technology. "How come I've never seen you use that before?"

"Never had a reason to." Zim answered. Then, "Can you run?"

"Yeah, I think so. Why?"

Zim looked up to the top of the building. Dib followed his gaze.

Perched on the crumbling wall were five of what Dib could only call 'creatures'. They were nightmarish. It looked as if their bodies had been twisted into something they were never meant to be, bent and broken to form something new. Their ribcages had been ripped open and hollowed out, the ribs twisted and cracked, forcefully repurposed as bones for the arms that grew from their stomach. Several were either missing their lower jaws or they had been ripped so badly that they may as well have been gone. Saliva dripped down onto the concrete near where he and Zim currently sat.

"What the hell are they?" Dib asked in a whisper. He wasn't sure how good those things' hearing was, but he didn't think it would be smart to upset them.

"They used to be Irkens."

Zim glanced past Dib to the ship, finding GIR sitting in the backseat and waving at them. Grabbing Dib by the arm, he turned from the building and bolted, dragging the human for a few paces before he started to run his own. The creatures launched themselves from the top of the wall, landing on all fours just in front of them. Zim jumped backwards on four spider legs, wrapping an arm around Dib's waist and pulling him back with him.

"So what now, genius?" Dib kept his eyes locked on the two that had appeared behind them, pressed against Zim's right side like the female lead in some bad horror movie. A sudden burst of sound, similar to multiple rapid gunshots made him flinch, clenching his hands in the Invader's uniform. The five in front were now missing their legs, reduced to crawling forward using the spikes that had formed from their fingers and the smaller set of arms attached to the skin of their open ribcage. Dib looked up at the alien in shock. Normally Zim couldn't even handle simple tasks, but he held what was clearly a gun similar to a Glock 23 like it was second nature.

"We were supposed to have a specialty." The Irken explained. "I was a sharpshooter. And this," he lowered the gun to the nearest creature's head, "is called 'strategic dismemberment'." He pulled the trigger, causing the creature to shriek, a difficult task when most of your head is missing.

Jumping on the spider legs gave them the distance they needed and Zim slung Dib into the back seat, on top of GIR, before climbing into the ship himself and crouching on the edge. The creature that raced for them took a shot between the eyes and never broke its stride. Zim stepped back as the canopy closed on its arm, severing it.

GIR shrieked in Dib's face and crawled over the seat, wedging himself behind the padded cushions. Dib pressed himself back into the seat as heard as he could as the arm drug itself across the floor of the ship. Zim calmly stepped away from the control panel once they were in the air and brought the heel of his boot down on the back of the thing's hand. It burst, exposing the rotted flesh and partial veins inside. The bones looked to be about the consistency of old toothpaste.

Dib pressed a hand over his mouth and turned, vomiting into a small bucket GIR had inexplicably thought to bring him before he crammed himself behind the seats.

Zim cringed. "Geez, Diblet." He said, slightly disgusted.

"What in God's name are those things?!" Dib screamed, sitting up and carefully avoiding looking at what was left of the hand on the ground, focusing instead on the gun Zim held. How in hell had he done that? If he was that skilled in small arms, how could his leaders ever have called him a failure? It didn't make any sense.

The Irken looked back down at the planet they were now several hundred miles above. The reply was spoken so softly Dib hardly heard it over his own ragged breathing.

"Necromorphs."

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A/N- So…Yeah. Pretty messed up. As I said I can't seem to write a non-horror story. (Writing it is easy. Filling it with illegal substances and sending it across the boarder is not.) Yeah, and then I'll set it on fire and wreck it into children and laugh at their parents and… Wow. Random ATHF moment. For some reason.

Also, the gun Zim has is standard issue for the Irken Military, held in a holster clipped to his uniform pants and easily hidden by the Invader uniform he's usually seen in. Since he still had an arm around Dib, presumably to keep him off the ground, we can assume that he's ambidextrous as he was shooting left-handed and would have to have fairly decent aim to take off the creatures' legs. (We've never seen him shoot. It might be a savant kind of thing.)


	6. Six Triften

A/N- **Ugh. Another one?** Yes. I have returned. Though nothing much happens this time. This is actually pretty different from how I thought it'd go. But that usually happens with my projects, so…yeah. Slight ZaDr warning for this one, 'cause I couldn't get the scene out of my head. That happens to me sometimes. Yeah, Dib winds up on his back in this one. Just probably not in the way you're thinking. Perverts.

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**Six- Triften **

It was late. At least, Dib thought it was. It was nearly impossible, as he'd quickly found out, to keep track of time on a spaceship. Zim sat in the pilot's chair, resting his head on his hand and watching the projection screen that now covered the windshield. Below, several of the creatures, the 'Necromorphs', as Zim called them, wandered about on the surface looking lost.

"So talk." Dib said somewhat irritably as he paced behind the Irken's chair, glad he'd thought to rebuild the ship big enough to give him that luxury. "What the hell are these things?"

"I just told you that." was the answer. Dib stopped pacing and turned to look at the alien sitting so nonchalantly beside him.

"How can you be so calm about this?" he barked. Zim didn't bother to take his eyes from the monitors. It was almost like he was bored. Dib stepped forward and crossed his arms over his chest. "You knew?"

"I wasn't sure." Zim shifted his legs a bit, flinching. Dib glanced down and noticed that the Invader's boot and pant leg had been torn and his leg was still bleeding a bit. When had that happened?

It was a small scratch but it seemed to bother him. Dib quickly dismissed it as Zim being his usual dramatic self. "You weren't sure," he repeated carefully, "so you brought me here to test your theory." His tone was deceptively calm, hiding the anger that bubbled just beneath the surface.

"And want if I did?" Zim turned the chair to face him, leaning back and dragging one long, lithe leg over the other. Dib clenched his hands at his sides, grinding his teeth. What the hell was that? He wasn't a toy or some lab experiment to be played with! But then, why was he getting so mad? It wasn't like he'd really expected Zim to act any differently. So why did the question hurt so much?

Dib mentally shook himself. That was getting into territory he wasn't quite ready to venture into yet. The human looked over at the projection screens that covered the windshield. Though, he thought, if you were in space and there was no air, was it still a windshield? Again, a question for another time.

Watching the Necromorphs, an idea suddenly struck him. "This really is horrible." He said, thinking out loud. "I wonder if it could survive on Earth?" A slow, slightly sadistic smile played on his lips as he watched several of the creatures roam about, imagining his dear sister turned into something that would accurately reflect how repulsive he found her inner self to be.

He felt Zim watching him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the alien start to smirk. "That wasn't a spur-of-the-moment kind of question, Dib." He said slowly. "You've spent quite a while wondering that, haven't you?" The Invader watched him with his head on one side, that slightly insane grin twisting his lips. "That's amusing."

"Is it?"

"Maybe." Zim stood, linking his hands behind him. "But then again you're… you. So I guess I shouldn't be too surprised."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Dib replied, smiling a bit less sadistically. "Even though you kinda freak me out in ways I'm not comfortable dealing with."

"Damn straight." A fitting response, but odd considering who was speaking. Zim moved to walk past him and staggered a bit. Dib reached out and caught him with a hand on his arm. Zim struggled for a minute as Dib pulled him close but eventually relaxed in the humans grip.

"You okay?" Dib asked carefully, noticing then that he'd wrapped both arms around Zim's waist. The alien was nearly as tall as he was, able to easily rest his head on his shoulder.

"It's nothing." was the snarled response. Needless to say, Zim wasn't exactly used to being held. His initial reaction was, of course, to push Dib away and bark some insult but somehow…he didn't want to. It wasn't exactly unpleasant, being this close, but it was a bit strange. He could hear the human's blood rushing in the veins in his neck. It was almost…comforting.

Without even realising it, he reached up, gently tugging Dib's left arm from around his waist. He raised the human's hand to his lips for just a moment before letting both of their hands rest against Dib's chest. If he was perfectly honest, it was a relief to feel the other's heart beating so strongly after all he'd been through.

He wasn't sure why he did it. Taking someone's hand like that was a big deal on Irk. But it felt like the right thing to do.

Dib blushed when Zim took his hand, his breath catching slightly in shock when he felt the alien's lips against his skin. He gently pressed his hand against Zim's, interlacing their fingers as their hands rested against his chest. It was peaceful here.

"You saved me." Dib breathed, "Thank you." He felt Zim shrug as if it where no big deal. Somehow, that hurt.

The human laughed a bit, quietly. "You've lost your fight." He mused. "I was expecting you to kick and scream if I held you."

"I'll only fight with people I'm afraid of." Zim looked up at him, keeping his head on his shoulder. "I'm not scared of you, Schneider." It was difficult to be threatening or intimidating when you had to look up to look someone in the eyes, but somehow Zim managed.

"Oh, really?" Dib pulled their hands away from his chest so that they were standing face to face, almost in a waltz position. His hand tightened on Zim's. "And just how did you know my last name?"

"Really." They kept their eyes locked, winding up in a staring contest. "And I know quite a bit about you. That whole 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer' thing."

Dib smirked a bit. It was unnerving and thrilling at the same time to not be sure how much someone knew. That and the fact that, somehow, having to look down to see someone's eyes always made them seem small and cute. Of course, Zim would probably slaughter him horribly if he knew he'd thought that.

After a minute or so, Zim clicked his teeth with an audible _snap!_ causing Dib to flinch and blink. When Zim started to laugh, Dib took the opportunity to push him backwards so that he landed hard in the pilot's chair. The younger placed a hand on the Irken's shoulder, pushing him back and leaning on the chair with one knee on the seat just between the elder's legs. "Care to rethink that?" he asked softly. He was leaning so close that their lips brushed as he spoke.

Zim let himself snarl at being thrown so easily. He hated feeling weak or stupid more than anything and having the human this close to him was decidedly uncomfortable. For the first time, he was forced to really look at the younger boy. And the first thing he noticed was the colour of his eyes.

Brown was a fairly common colour for human eyes, but Dib's were different. They held a faint golden tinge made even more obvious by the fact that his hair was almost constantly in his face now. Even Gaz's eyes (on the rare occasion that Zim had seen them) weren't like this. Dib's were…softer, even under the harsh glare of Irk's red rings reflected in his glasses. They were the colour of warm honey.

The Irken glanced away then, uncomfortable. His gaze fell to the human's hand, still resting on his shoulder. The back of Dib's hand was badly scrapped, probably from being drug across the pavement when Zim had pulled him from the water. Dib had apparently not noticed it until just then, even though Zim had held his hand just minutes ago. The human gently took his hand back, edging his sleeve up to keep the fabric away from the wound.

Zim flinched at the sight of the scars running across the other's skin, but reached up to catch Dib's wrist, tugging at the collar of his uniform with the opposite hand. The collar was apparently nothing more than a scarf-like strip of cloth wrapped around the alien's neck as it slipped off easily into his hand.

"Hey." Dib asked softly as Zim wrapped the cloth around his hand. "Why are so worried about me all of a sudden?"

Zim stopped for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about." He snarled, tying the cloth around Dib's wrist.

"Oh, please," the teenager hissed, pulling his arm back. "The Zim I remember from skool wouldn't have bothered to jump in to save me like you did. And this…" he held up his bandaged hand, "what are you, my mother?"

"You called out for your mother before. 'Thought you might need her."

Dib clenched his teeth, standing and taking a step back. His eyes burned but he ignored it, instead focusing on the sudden surge of anger that flooded his system. "I-"

"Awww. Are you guys fighting?" GIR was sitting on the couch like a toddler, watching them. "That's not nice."

"It's fine, GIR." Dib told him gently. "We're just talking. Now, go play somewhere, okay?"

"Okiee Dokiee!" GIR toddled off without any further questions. Zim could be grateful for that at least. GIR was a great one for that.

Dib, still more than slightly angry, grabbed a chair from the corner and sat with his back to Zim, putting his legs up on the couch he'd been sleeping on. Eventually, he leaned back in his chair so that it balanced on its back legs, supported against the back of the pilot's chair. Zim, who had been facing the control panels again, had leaned back in his chair too. Whether they liked it or not, they where holding each other up.

"You still miss her, don't you?" Zim asked quietly, stretching his left leg up to rest on the control panel. A 'Slouch of Villainy', as Dib might say.

"Shut up." The human ran his fingers over the cloth wrapped around his hand. It had felt like something a mother would do. Maybe that was why he'd gotten so mad. His mother had been the only sane, stable thing in his life. When she'd gotten sick, well…that was when the world stopped making sense.

"That which doesn't break me makes me stronger." Zim said, glancing back at the human. Dib thought he heard him laugh softly when he said, "I live by that, too."

Dib leaned back a bit more. "We're not so different, you and I."

"Line."

"True, though." The younger boy laughed and coughed a bit. That sharp taste of blood still lingered in his throat, making him feel slightly sick whenever he noticed it. "You've been acting different lately, too."

Zim shifted in his chair. "Define 'different'." He said, sounding almost as though he were worried about something.

"I don't know." Dib sighed. "I can't really put words to it. Just different." He paused. "It's kinda nice."

Zim didn't answer him. He'd been fully expecting a rant about how stupid he was or about how moronic it was to be so attached to his 'family', so when it didn't come he was forced to ask, "Zim?"

"Huh? I'm thinking." He sounded a little irritated.

"Yeah, you've got quite a lot to think about now, don't you?" Dib wasn't sure just what possessed him to start talking, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. "You've got kidnapping, the Necromorph thing could be homicide and abuse of a corpse, Grand Theft…Spaceship, how you're going to take on the Tallest on your own…"

"You're forgetting when I made you hit your head on the floor."

"I don't remember-"

Zim kicked his chair forward, leaving Dib to fall backwards due to how far he'd been leaning back. The human landed hard on the floor next to him, flat on his back. He drew his breath in with a sharp hiss at the sudden jolt to his internal organs. Zim threw his head back, laughing like he always used to when he thought he'd won. Dib looked up at him from his spot on the floor, a faint scowl twisting his lips.

"You jerk."

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A/N- Heh-heh. I'm very funny. Okay, not really, but I though that was kinda cool. Anyone else think that was kinda cool? Please respond.

And for those of you who doubt that Dib would be the one to sort of make the first move, consider this: The boy clearly has domination tendencies. In the first episode, within a few hours of meeting Zim, he considers the best course of action to be to handcuff him. "Alien link-ups. Guaranteed to render all alien life forms unconscious." Not to mention the fascination he seems to have with strapping him down to an autopsy table. Uh-huh.

Also, I'm making up names again. Dib doesn't technically have a last name since Membrane is his father's name so I made one up. Zim, in my twisted little mind, has a last name, too. But you'll have to wait for that. (Like anyone cares.)


	7. Seven I Feel Sick

A/N- **Hello, friends. **I'm back. _**And I don't remember writing this.**_ I really don't. The chapter title's actually in English this time. (gasp) I know. Yeah, I'm lazy and didn't feel like translating it. Irken is _not_ an easy language. The sentence structure is all screwed up. Sounds cool, though. What was I saying? Oh, yeah…

The story is starting to pick up again and it should get more interesting now. Should. Also, Attention ZaDR fans! First Kiss in this Chapter. Don't be a loser. If you don't like it, skip it. It's that simple.

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**Seven- I Feel Sick **

It was dark. A deafening silence hung heavily in the air along the massive hallway. The world outside was shielded from the heart-rending screams in harsh, biting Irken by several layers of soundproof insulation.

Tallest Red's long claws ripped at him, making him bleed. His Invader uniform was reduced to a series of rags hanging limply from his arms. Sharp claws dug into his skin as Red pushed him backwards, crawling on top of him. He kicked and screamed and dug his own claws into Red's arms, drawing blood despite the restriction of his gloves and trying vainly to push him away.

Red's hands trailed along his legs, tearing into the uniform even more. He seemed amused when he'd kicked at him, smirking down at him like he was a toy. The Tallest's sharp eyes had changed. The fire in that gaze was unlike anything he'd ever seen before.

Lust. Pure lust. Everything else was gone. As much as he searched, the cool, calm, confident leader he'd known, or thought he knew, had vanished.

He was violently wrenched from his thoughts when Red's claws pressed against his thigh, forcing his legs apart. He'd started to scream, kicking and barking orders as though Red would listen. The elder's long fingers raked along the skin of his inner thigh leaving deep, bleeding gashes in the soft flesh until...

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Zim clenched his teeth as he paced the ship, refraining from using his usual goose-step match due to the pain burning up his leg. He'd cleaned and dressed the shallow wound on his ankle before changing his clothes. It didn't feel right to walk onto the Massive without dressing for the occasion.

To be honest, the very thought of Tallest Red make his stomach turn but if he was going to use Dib's earlier musings to form a plan, odds were they'd need the cyro-storage vats onboard the Armada's flagship.

Still…

Zim snarled and stopped pacing, flattening his antenna against his head. He watched the Massive, the ship he'd always dreamed of seeing up close, drift lazily ahead of them. It was off centre and there were no lights inside. The heavy, sickening scent he'd thought he'd smelled when they'd hovered above Irk reached him again and he crossed his arms tightly over his chest. A very small act of defiance, yes, but enough to keep him sane for the moment.

"I'm underdressed." Dib said from his place on the couch behind him. He'd just woken up and was looking the Irken up and down carefully.

He was right. Compared to Zim, he looked like a street rat. Dib wore his trench coat, dark jeans and a striped shirt with the Question Sleep logo on it. Zim, on the other hand…Zim looked amazing.

The alien's standard Invader uniform had been replaced by the Irken Military dress uniform. The boots came up slightly higher on his long legs and the black gloves were emblazoned with the military symbol near the wrist. The long shirt, which most of the other kids had often made fun of as a dress, was replaced by a high-collared deep crimson tailcoat.

Dib noticed he was staring and closed his mouth. He forced his thoughts back to the, well, massive ship that he could see out the front window.

"That's…"

"The Massive." Zim's voice was laced with a sharp venom. "And it might be in your best interest to learn how to fight, hyuman." He bit out as he heard Dib walk up beside him.

"Oh, we're back to this now?" The younger asked. "Fine, space boy. You seem to be doing just fine without me." He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I believe you have us backwards, you little worm-monkey." Zim turned to face him. "You wouldn't even still be here if it weren't for me."

"Exactly." Dib snapped. "If it wasn't for you, I've just killed myself years ago and been done with it, but no…You had to give me a reason to stick around. And since you did, we-"

"We?" Zim repeated. "Hello? There is no 'we'. There was never a 'we'. In fact, without _me_ there wouldn't even be a '_you'_." He pressed the sharp tip of one finger against Dib's chest as he spoke. The human slapped his hand away, twisting his arm and pulling him close against him.

Zim stepped back, trying to wrench his arm from Dib's grasp. "Let go!" he barked, his Irken accent making it sound more harsh, easily hiding the sense of panic that had started to gnaw at him.

"You know, you're right," Dib murmured quietly. He pulled the alien forward again, this time gently hooking him under the chin and pressing their lips together. Zim pushed against his arm but it lacked his earlier fury. He relaxed in the younger's embrace, gently curling his fingers into Dib's jacket, holding him.

Dib rested his hand on Zim's neck, slipping his fingers under the collar of his uniform. Zim gasped softly at the contact and Dib brushed his tongue against his slightly parted lips. The Irken pushed a hand into his hair, feeling Dib shudder as his lithe, reptilian tongue slipped into his mouth. The human held him there, tightening his grip almost possessively.

The sharp warmth the other's strange, multi-jointed tongue against his own brought a soft moan from the younger boy. He felt lightheaded, slightly drunk on the strange sensation. The kiss was gentle, controlled yet passionate. He shivered, twisting his tongue around the Irken's, never wanting it to end. Zim held him, clinging to him with something resembling fear, as though he were his only life-line.

Eventually, Zim gently broke the kiss, nuzzling in the space where the human's neck met his shoulder. He felt safe. Usually kisses like that just meant pain and a small part of his mind told him to brace for it like he used to. He had to stop and remind himself that Dib was not Tallest Red and he never would be.

They stood in silence for several minutes. Neither was quite sure what to say. After a while, when they had the courage to step away from each other, Dib laughed softly, "That's interesting. I thought you hated me."

Zim scoffed and looked back out the window, embarrassed but determined to hide it. "_Quem me tuunt oderunt_." He quoted. "'They hate whom they fear.' I never feared you."

Dib smiled a bit. "Guess that's the best I'm going to get from you, huh?"

Zim didn't take his eyes from the other ship, watching as a large clear tube snaked through the space between the ships to cover the cruiser. Faintly, Dib thought he saw him smile a bit but he couldn't be sure. The locks on the windshield snapped open and Zim stepped up onto the edge of their ship, looking down the tube that led to the Massive's hull. Jumping down lightly onto the clear surface, he glanced back at Dib, smirking.

"Don't panic."

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, the Massive too. I don't like to let people live in stories like these. I've been working on 'Things We Lost in the Fire' and 'R t H M' as well as this one, that why I took so long this time. Sorry. Plus I can only write this one when I'm feeling pretty bad, so…ya know.


	8. Eight Entryway

A/N- **I think a pencil is lodged in my brain. **I'm slowly getting things done. This one came about because I saw my father yesterday. That really has nothing to do with the actual content, I just have issues with the man. Therefore…Oh, just read the damn thing.

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**Eight- Entryway **

Zim flinched as the hanger doors slid open. The room was empty but the scent of blood was stronger here then it had ever been on Irk, even in the pond. The human didn't seem to notice it, or if he did, he refrained from mentioning it. Zim stopped him just inside the door with one arm held out in front of him.

"Look," he told him slowly, making sure he had his attention. "Do _not_ touch anything on this ship. Do you understand me? I could be court marshaled for even bringing you here."

"If anyone's even still alive." Dib reminded him. Zim flinched and clenched his teeth. Dib had just enough time to register the look of rage that flashed across the other's eyes. Suddenly the Irken's hand was around his throat. The pressure quickly went from tolerable to unbearable and Dib reached up to claw at Zim's hand as the alien lifted him off of the floor, snarling curses in Irken. He forced one eye open to look down at Zim.

Any trace of sanity had long since disappeared from the sharp crimson eyes that looked back at him. There was no sign of remorse or pity in that blood-coloured gaze. Dib choked and kicked weakly as he pulled at Zim's hand, his vision slowly starting to fade around the edges and his lungs burning in his chest. The Irken suddenly released him, dropping him roughly to the ground.

Dib coughed and gasped for a moment or two before looking up at the alien and barking, "You fucking psychopath!" Zim looked steadily back at him. There was still no look of remorse in his eyes but thankfully the all-consuming malice that Dib had seen only moments earlier had faded.

Zim didn't apologise. He simply walked further into the hanger, looking around with an unnerving disinterest at the cavernous room. There were no ships to speak of save for one that had apparently crashed near the far wall and was now nothing more than a mass of twisted metal.

Dib caught his breath but didn't move to stand just yet. What the hell was that about? Then it hit him. If everyone on the Massive was gone as well, that probably made Zim the last Irken alive. It was a startling thought but, if their original plan had worked, Dib would have been the last of the human race for as long as Zim saw fit.

He could have killed him just then. Easily. That thought frightened him. Zim was much stronger than he'd thought. The Irken had picked him up off of the floor with one hand and minimal effort despite the notable difference in their height. He placed a hand against his throat. It would probably bruise. Great.

"Hey!" Zim called, walking back over to him. "Are you going to lie there all day?" He stopped a few feet from him with his hands on his hips.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Dib asked as he picked himself up, still rubbing his neck. "You drag me out here, save me once then try to kill me?" He locked eyes with Zim and neither dropped their gaze for several minutes. The blank stare that he was receiving sent a shiver down Dib's spine.

In the next second, the anger he felt was replaced by a cold rush of fear as Zim was pulled violently to the ground.

The Pak the Irken wore made a sickening crack as it struck the metal floor. Zim yelped in pain and shock as he kicked at the large tentacle that was wrapped securely around his right ankle and slowly dragging him across the floor to the ventilation shaft it had slithered out of. He clawed at the slick floor for something to hold on to. Finding nothing, the Irken pulled the same handgun he'd used on Irk out of its holster on his thigh.

The creature shrieked as its tentacle was quickly and painfully severed by several bullets, dragging the rest of its wounded body back into the grate and leaving its pray on the floor above. A trail of slime followed whatever the thing was, making the floor between the Irken and the ventilation shaft even slicker. Zim fell back, slightly out of breath from screaming. He turned on his side to avoid lying on the Pak. He couldn't be sure if it was damaged or not just yet.

On the other side of the room now, Dib finally found his voice. "What the hell was that?" he asked. The question sounded breathy, like a stage whisper.

"Drag tentacle." Zim answered irritably, sitting up and twisting his upper body to face the human. "And just how long were you just going to stand there and watch?" He was clearly angry now but it was nowhere near the fury he had before.

"Well," Dib shrugged, feeling inexplicably brave, possibly due to the sudden distance between them and the fact that Zim was still on the ground. (And looking like he belonged on the cover of a _Xxxenophile _Magazine, Dib noted mentally.) "It was kind fun to see." He smirked and glanced down at the tentacle still wrapped around Zim's ankle.

The Irken followed his gaze and then pulled his coat closer around him. "Pervert." He hissed, standing and shaking the tentacle loose from his leg with a grimace. Dib laughed and walked over to him. He was a bit surprised he'd understood what he meant by that comment so quickly. The tension between them seemed markedly less intense now. Not that Dib had forgotten about the Irken nearly strangling him, but somehow it didn't seem as bad now.

In fact, his mood over all had been better ever since he'd kissed Zim. Odd. Heh. What wound his father say? He almost laughed out loud at the thought but bit his tongue. It didn't make any sense that he was happy now. Both of them could have died several times already and that number was only going to go up. But he felt warm. Happy. He couldn't explain it.

Zim looked him up and down. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice surprisingly soft.

"Yeah." Dib shrugged one shoulder like he often did when he answered something automatically.

"Just…'Cause I dropped you earlier, I-I didn't know…" Zim sounded concerned. Dib cocked his head at him. Why was he so worried all of a sudden?

"Yeah. I'm not hurt. I'm fine." Dib said a little carefully. Zim nodded and looked away. A strange look of pain crossed his eyes and he looked toward the door.

"Come on." he said suddenly. "We shouldn't stand here too long." He moved toward the door, limping only slightly as he walked. Dib followed, still puzzled. Why was he so worried that he'd dropped him? He hadn't hit his head or anything and Zim hadn't damaged anything in his throat. He could still breathe just fine. So why…

This whole thing was just strange. He felt like Zim was keeping something from him and the thought annoyed him. Zim always acted superior even when he was clearly wrong. Just like a man.

Dib actually stopped short and shook his head. Just where had _that_ come from?

Walking up ahead of him and lost in his own thoughts, Zim hadn't noticed his comrade. His thoughts circled in his head. _You idiot! You could've really hurt him! What the hell where you thinking?_ The thought of what he'd nearly done made him physically ill. Yes, Irkens were harsh and unforgiving, a military race to the end, but even they had their standards.

Some days, he just made himself sick.

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A/N- Hooray for Dead Space references! (Shadow Hog clap) Yes, something is going on with Dib. It's probably more obvious than I think it is. I'm not really sure I care too much if it's obvious or not. I kinda think it is, but I wrote it so…uh…What's wrong with you people?! (Seriously.)


	9. Nine Last Message

A/N- **Jhonen wishes he could turn me into a twisted, horrible knot. Made from me. **Well, probably not, but I wouldn't be surprised. Guys, thanks so much for the reviews. Really. I never think my writing is good enough to even see the light of day, but you all apparently think otherwise, and I love you for it. (Not like that.)

Speaking of…

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**Nine-Last Message**

Zim flinched, drawing his breath in with a sharp hiss. "Easy."

"Sorry. I told you someone was gonna get hurt." Dib sounded nervous.

"It'll be fine." Zim breathed into his ear, tugging gently at his uniform collar.

"I just can't move too quick." Dib pressed back into his chair.

"It's not about speed, you know." The Irken's voice was soft, silken. "'s about deep penetration."

"Ugh." Dib snarled and took his hands off of the control panel. He took the headset off with a kind of annoyed flourish and leaned out the window. "You promised me no penetration jokes."

Zim gave him a barking laugh and stepped away from the wall, looking up at him. "What, you want me to not laugh about this?" He swept his arm along the machine Dib was controlling. It was essentially a giant drill, about half of which was buried in the metal of one wall. The Irken linked his hands behind his back in a very Mr. Spock pose. "That would be illogical."

He actually managed this with a straight face.

Dib rolled his eyes and set his hands back on the controls. "Idiot." He sighed, "Why don't you have a key to this place again?"

The doors he'd been trying to drill around slid open with a soft hydraulic hiss. He turned to see Zim holding a small plastic card loosely in his hand and smirking. The human leaned out the window again.

"So, all this…" he gestured to the wall, "was because you were too lazy to do that?"

"Not at all." Zim corrected him, placing the fingertips of his right hand against his chest and sounding indignant. "You asked me if I had a key. I told you no. I have a key-_card_, but you didn't hear that because you jumped ahead."

Dib doubted he'd ever wanted to punch someone so badly in his life. He started to crawl through the window when a sharp noise from Zim stopped him. He looked up to see the Irken with one hand slightly outstretched, much like a parent if they think their child might get hurt playing.

"Don't-don't climb through the window, okay? You could fall." He didn't sound like Zim at all just then. Dib cocked his head but slipped back inside the cabin and opened the door. Zim only relaxed when he was safely on the ground.

"Okay, Mom?" Dib asked lightly as he walked to stand by the alien. Zim gave him a weak smile in return but it quickly faded. He looked to the short hallway that was now open for them.

"It leads to the bridge." He said softly. The smell of blood was in the air again, along with something else. Rot. Decay. Something was very wrong here.

Dib didn't seem to notice it. At least not as strongly as Zim did. He wondered why the Irken had been so upbeat the last few hours. He'd laughed and joked like nothing was ever wrong. Like they were old friends. In some ways, Dib guessed they _were_ old friends. Hell, Zim was probably his best friend in the universe. It was a little scary when you thought about it.

And now…he had no idea what to make of him whenever he was protective or seemed concerned. It wasn't at all like the Zim he knew. But it was kind of nice.

The Invader took a slow breath and walked toward the door, Dib following him closely. Zim swept the key-card through the reader and the doors slid open.

Dib stifled a sharp gasp. Zim flinched and stepped back, shutting his eyes for a moment until things stopped spinning and he could breathe again. He was grateful he'd left GIR asleep in the cruiser.

Bodies littered the floor, covered in blood-drenched uniforms and what remained of their internal organs. It was as though something had ripped them to shreds from the inside. The blank eyes of the officers seemed to follow them as they cautiously moved about the room.

"Zim…" Dib watched the Invader looking around the bridge. He looked lost.

"I'm alright." He managed. His eyes swept over the room one more time then rested on a small door in the far wall. "Stay here." He said as he walked past him. It was clearly as order. Dib resisted the urge to salute. Now wasn't the time.

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The small control panel crackled to life, static filling the screen. A second later, a harsh roaring flooded the room, making Dib clamp his hands over his ears, cringing and stepping back from the panel.

"What the hell is that?!" He barked. He reached up and stopped the recording. His ears were still ringing as the door slid open behind him, revealing his Irken companion.

"What did you do?" Zim demanded, walking briskly across the room and catching Dib by the shoulder, spinning him roughly to face him.

"Nothing!" Dib gasped, more from shock than anything. "The lights were still on here and-"

Zim let go of Dib with something close to a shove, stepping up to the console. His ruby eyes scanned the damaged keys until he found the one Dib must have hit.

"How many times have I told you not to touch anything on this ship, Hyuman?" he snarled, clenching his teeth. "If the Tallest still had control, they would have twisted you into a twisted, horrible knot, made from you."

"If they were still alive, you mean." Dib hadn't really meant to say that but was determined not to let Zim see that. Thankfully, the Invader ignored him.

"It's a video log." the Irken murmured, not even glancing back at the boy. He reached higher on the panel, apparently looking for something. A large bolt of electricity snaked its way out of the exposed wires when he drew too close, ripping a harsh, ear-splitting scream from the alien's throat and sending sparks in every direction.

Zim clutched his arm against his chest, shrieking. Dib dimly registered that it was the same kind of screech that he'd heard from him on Irk, high-pitched and grating. It occurred to him that Zim probably was disguising his voice but the idle thought quickly faded when he saw the extent of the damage done to the alien's hand.

The fingertips of the gloves were burned clean off and the Irken's flesh was slightly charred. Dib cringed as he saw the same pale, almost transparent pink blood that currently covered the walls and most of the floor collecting on his sharp fingers. Zim, on the other hand, composed himself quite quickly. Unnaturally quickly. He drew a deep breath and stood from where he'd collapsed on the ground moments earlier. He kept his arm back from the console to avoid touching it and reached back up to the buttons.

'He's either very brave or very stupid,' Dib thought as he watched the Irken continue working almost as if nothing had happened.

The screen filled with static again and the screaming started.

Zim winced, flattening his antenna against his head. Slowly, though, he picked them back up, listening. Through the static and the screams, he could hear it. Someone was speaking.

It was almost unintelligible at first. A form of Low Irken used by non-military personnel. Even Zim tended to have trouble with it.

Dib seemed to hear it too because he dared to edge closer to Zim, speaking softly. "What is that?"

Zim rewound the tape, letting it play through again. "It's Irken." he whispered. "But it's badly distorted." He listened for a moment before saying softly, _"Libren Kaen."_ He paused, then translated, "Save me."

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A/N- Really, this is nothing. Ya want creepy, depressing and disturbing? Go to my profile (cause it's probably easier) and find the one-shot 'Spring'. It's horrible.

Anyway, Yay! for misleading openings. (Which sounds very weird, when you think about it.) Pretty sure some people want to punch me for getting their hopes up like that. Sorry, guys.


	10. Ten Zeromantic

A/N- **It's Paper-Cut Friday.** That means that a lot of little things happen just to annoy you. I just had to delete a review because it was that painful. I usually try to leave my reviews alone but if you're gonna be that painfully stupid, kindly do it elsewhere. This chapter probably isn't as good as it should be, because I'm pissed off.

(By the by, just in general, I won't write love scenes because they largely disgust me. It usually ruins things anyway. No offence if you like those scenes. You just won't see them from me.)

To that point…onward to violence.

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**Ten-Zeromantic**

Neither of them had time to react. The creature that was once Officer Dax leaped from the walkway overhead to land on the control panels before turning and jumping at Dib like a feral dog. Its deformed jaws were wide open and a deafening roar echoed through the cavernous room.

Dax landed hard on floor, snarling and hanging over Dib, supported on its arms. Dib pulled his own arms up to protect himself, screaming and kicking at the creature. The shouts of fear turned to ones of pain when the thing's jagged fangs attached to its drooling, multi-jointed jaw dug into his shoulder, scraping against the bone. The sound snapped Zim out of his trance and he jumped forward, kicking what was once Dax hard in the side. The impact was enough to force it to release Dib.

It started to crawl away but a single bullet to the brain quickly put a stop to that.

Dib pressed a hand against his wounded shoulder, turning onto his side and curling up, much like he had in the alley back on Earth. He could hear himself crying, sobbing. He knew how weak he must look. And he didn't care at all right then. Pain ripped through every nerve. It felt like his whole body was on fire. The blood that flowed freely from the wound scorched his hand making it difficult to breathe.

Dimly, he was aware that Zim crouched down beside him, placing a hand over the wound and wrapping his other arm around him. The Irken kept one eye on Dax even though it was clear that the thing wasn't getting up any time soon. Most of what had been left of its brain was all over the floor.

They were here too. Which meant that the entire crew was most likely infected. Zim just hoped that they weren't all like Dax. Leapers were always one of the worst.

Dib slowly stopped shaking. The restorative chemicals in the Irken's gloves were dulling the pain rather quickly and making it possible for him to breathe again. It wasn't really a surprise that Dax had gotten so close so quickly. Zim glanced over at the creature. Its legs had been fused into a thick tail, leaving it having to support itself on its hands. Unfortunately, that tail was exceedingly strong, letting them jump incredible distances. Quite a problem in a fight, really.

Dib struggled to sit up, twisting his good hand into Zim's coat and holding him close. Even through the haze of pain and medication that still flooded his system, he was surprised when Zim held him. He clung to him as though he were truly afraid that he might lose him. Like…like he loved him.

Dib mentally shook himself. Irkens didn't feel love, remember? Then what was that kiss on the cruiser? Was he just playing with him? He wasn't sure.

The creature twitched and Dib felt the Irken tense, tightening his grip on him. Zim was being protective again.

He relaxed after a few minutes and Dib said softly, "I'm okay." Zim looked at him for a moment as though he didn't believe him. Eventually he nodded and slowly, almost reluctantly, let go of him.

Dib kept a hand on his shoulder, which thankfully wasn't bleeding anymore. The coat and shirt were badly ripped but still wearable if you overlooked the blood. He looked down at the body on the floor. It looked different than the ones he'd seen before. "What is that?" he breathed. It hurt to talk.

"Leaper." Zim answered. He sounded distracted again, worried. Almost…frightened.

"What is your problem?" Dib sighed, turning to him. He was suddenly angry despite the obvious concern that the alien had showed for him only moments ago. He was getting sick of this whole 'It's nothing I can tell you' thing. "You don't make any sense sometimes. You were worried because you dropped me, you told me not to climb through the window earlier because I 'could get hurt'. What is wrong with you?"

Zim forced his breath out through his teeth in an irritated sigh. "I-"

A loud clatter from above cut him off. It sounded like something was moving in the vents overhead. Zim shuddered. Somehow he knew it was him.

"Come on!" He barked as he pushed past Dib. Leaving the human alone now was out of the question. Dib kept up through the winding hallways, hoping that Zim knew where he was going. Getting lost on this ship was most likely nothing less than a death sentence.

The pain from the bite had faded considerably and was now little more than a dull ache. Annoying, but not unbearable.

Zim took a sharp right and stopped short, throwing an arm out to catch Dib. In front of them was a long hallway. The wall on the left-hand side was glass, bowed out like the side of a tube. Below was a massive room on the outer wall of the ship. The black expanse of space, lit only by a few faint stars was clearly visible through the floor-to-ceiling window where the outer wall should be.

It was beautiful. But something was off. Zim was tense, his breathing shallow and erratic. He walked slowly along the hallway like he was in a dream. Dib followed until about mid-way when Zim told him again, "Stay here."

There was a strange tone to his voice. Something Dib couldn't quite place. He didn't argue.

Zim moved through a small door and down a flight of stairs, putting him in the lower room that was visible from the upper walkway. Dib couldn't hear the door shut behind Zim, so he assumed the glass was soundproofed. It must have locked because Zim jumped as though he were startled and glanced over his shoulder.

Something called his attention back to the other end of the room. A large section of the ventilation shaft above him collapsed down into the room.

There in the mass of twisted metal stood Tallest Red. His robes were tattered and looked strangely faded in between the blood stains but aside from that he was the same man, the same monster that Zim remembered.

The younger Irken fell back a step in shock, his breath catching painfully in his throat. Red only smirked at him. The gesture was awkward. Not at all like his usual detached but confident smile. Zim slowly started to see it through the haze of fear that suddenly clouded his thoughts. Red looked…different. Wrong, somehow.

"Hello, Zim." His voice wasn't right. It sounded the same on the surface but beneath the illusion it was choked and raspy, demented. The smaller Irken was trembling. The memories he'd repressed through all those years were being pulled to the surface again at the sight of his former commander. All the abuse. All the torment. The way Red used to break his ribs just to make him scream. It was all there. It was all real.

He could almost feel the cold cloth against his skin again. The press of the Tallest's claws on his shattered ribs, raking over him and spilling his blood onto the sheets. Red loved to hear him scream.

The sudden pain that stabbed into his ribs at the memory made him gasp and Zim shook his head in an effort to clear his vision.

"Zim," Red watched him from across the massive hallway, his voice slightly more like it used to be. "Я тебя люблю."

A bitter laugh reached him from across the room, causing him to flick his antenna up curiously. He'd never heard the younger sound like that before.

Zim drew himself up to his full height despite the pain lancing through his ribcage. He laughed again, a soft and slightly manic sound this time. "Liar."

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A/N- They're gonna fight. Red's been waiting for him. Violently! (Ha! You probably don't know what Red told him. It doesn't really matter though, 'cause he did lie.)


	11. Eleven Intensive Care

A/N- **Destruction is nice! **Seriously, it is nice. I, uh…don't have a lot to say here other than the fact that this might considered disturbing by some humans. I'll explain a lot of things in the next chapter so, ya know…

Also I'm not used to fight scenes and I didn't want it to be drawn out so that's why it is the way it is. Uh…Little longer chapter this time. Not sure why, but there it is.

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**Eleven-Intensive Care**

"Liar." The word had a soft trail of manic laughter following it. Zim picked his head up, watching Red. He wasn't going to bother with saying anything about the fact that the phrase was technically backwards. He knew he'd just done it to get to him.

Surprisingly, one of Zim's many personality ticks was his being very particular about the grammar in languages he knew well. As much as he'd tried to forget the Russian he was forcibly taught, he still knew a great deal of the language.

Up above on the sheltered walkway, Dib threw his gaze from one to the other, unable to hear any of the conversation and sure he'd be unable to follow it if he was. Something was wrong. He recognised the fear in Zim's eyes instantly and it sickened him. Fear like that only came from one thing.

He sat down on the metal floor, wincing faintly. The pain from the bite wound in his shoulder was slowly coming back. He tried not to think about all the diseases he could've gotten from whatever he was supposed to call that thing. He shuddered at the thought of those dripping teeth and forced his attention back to the two on the floor below him.

Red stepped forward, laughing when Zim instinctively fell back a step to maintain the distance between them. When Red stepped to his left, so did Zim, placing them slowly circling each other.

"You don't trust me?" Red asked innocently.

Zim scoffed as he stepped carefully around the mutilated ventilation shaft which was still on the floor. "Why would I? After everything you've done? Anyone who would slaughter their partner for being an inconvenience should be locked up."

Red stopped. "Smart guy." He said softly. "You've grown up, haven't you? You even kept your figure." He made a show of raking his eyes over the younger Irken. He smirked when Zim shuddered and ground his teeth. "Impending Doom 1." Red told him slowly. "Now that was a fiasco, wasn't it?"

"Bastard."

"Really? You're the one who almost destroyed our civilisation. And all for little ol' me." He smiled, showing impossibly white teeth.

Traitor. It was one of the first Irken words Dib had learned and a very serious insult if used correctly. He knew it well enough to read Zim's lips just before Red jumped at him, closing the distance between them in less than a second. He wasn't sure if Zim was even still alive until he found him on the other side of the room, using the spider legs to set himself on his feet again.

They were back to where they started from, Zim by the door and Red by the wall. Zim was out of breath from fear and the sudden surge of adrenaline that always came with the beginning of a fight. The pain that spiked through him didn't help him much. His left hand was pressed firmly over his eye and blood ran slowly over his damaged glove.

Red shifted his gaze to the walkway, looking Dib in the eyes for a moment. The human froze. He understood a little better now why Zim seemed so frazzled. The look in those eyes was like nothing he'd ever seen before. Wrath, malice, lust, insanity, it was all there.

Thankfully, the contact lasted only a few seconds before the alien returned his attention to Zim.

"Yours?" Red asked playfully, cocking his head toward the walkway. Zim snarled at what that implied. Red always acted classy but deep down he was nothing more than a brute.

The Tallest were always so perfect. Nothing ever rattled them. Nothing could hurt them. Zim almost laughed. It was all a lie.

A soft sound pulled his focus back to the room. Red was laughing again. It was different this time. Louder. More broken. He threw his head back at an unnatural angle, the skin at the corners of his mouth tearing back to his antenna. His lower jaw seemed to rot and long jagged fangs extended from the blackened, bleeding flesh of his gums.

Up above, Dib clapped his hands over his mouth. He felt nauseous. It didn't help that Zim had twisted away and thrown up, probably as soon as he'd heard the sound of ripping flesh. The look of the taller Irken's mutilated and blood-drenched skin made it feel like he was in a horror movie. The way Zim was crouched against the wall, trembling and looking up at Red… It was horrible.

Red jumped forward, hitting the ground on all fours. The joints in his limbs didn't line up anymore, making the jumping stride uneven, jerky, like watching a tape that kept skipping. Zim tried to stand. He wasn't quick enough. Red cracked him hard across the face with one hand, throwing him across the floor.

Dib stood and leaned against the glass. "Zim!" he barked, not sure if he could hear him. "Zim, get up!" He tried to sound angry and keep the fear out of his voice. He knew he probably failed but it was worth a try.

Red crawled up to the smaller Irken, leaning over him and lowering his head. He caught the collar of the younger's dress uniform with one of the twisted, broken teeth and then snapped his head back, ripping the cloth diagonally across his chest. Zim didn't react to it. He was either unconscious or dead.

Dib cursed under his breath and started for the door that led down to the room. Zim had left the door from the hall unlocked and Dib took the stairs two at a time, having to catch himself against the far wall of the landing. He wondered if he was too late. Then he heard the gunshot.

He jumped back from the door and stood there for a moment, frozen, listening. After several seconds, a soft growling reached him followed quickly by a second gunshot.

It was quiet then. Dib stayed by the door for what seemed like hours, his ragged breathing far too loud in the small space. Finally, he shook himself and reached for the door again. Locked. Not surprising but it was irritating. He stepped back and threw his uninjured shoulder against the door. A loud _snap _accompanied the breaking of one of the locks. It didn't take much after that to force the door open.

The scent of blood hit him full force and he stepped backward, bringing his own bloodstained sleeve across his nose. His own blood was harsher but the scent was less alien, almost comforting.

He looked out into the room. It felt like all the air had been pulled from his lungs. Red lay in a small pool of blood, his eyes staring blankly at the ruined ceiling. His body was twisted at an impossible angle that would've easily broken his spine had he been human. His hands were clawed up and every muscle was locked. There was a single bullet hole right between his eyes. The first gunshot had apparently hit him in the stomach, causing the growl Dib had heard from the stairwell.

But where was Zim?

Dib turned, scanning the room. His eyes fell to the younger Irken sitting against the glass wall. Zim still held the gun in his hand. He was staring at Red, expression blank and lost.

"Zim?" Dib carefully took a step toward him.

"Told you to stay put." The alien's voice was soft, distant. Almost like he wasn't really there. Blood dripped slowly from his left eye but he didn't seem to notice it. The left side of his uniform was gone from the collar to his hip, the sleeve ripped down to the top of his glove, revealing pale scars covering nearly every inch of his skin. He was a wreck.

"I wasn't just going to sit there and watch him kill you." Dib struggled to keep his voice even. What the hell did Zim expect him to do? Walk away? How? They were God knew how many miles from Earth and Dib was completely on his own except for Zim. That was really the way it'd always been.

"You see what he did to me." The words were soft and surprisingly gentle. "Imagine what would've happened to you if you'd stepped in." Zim picked his head up just enough to show that his left eye was completely gone. Several long gashes ran along his cheek, the last one dragging across the eyelid. The Irken laughed. It was a hollow sound produced as a reflex. "It would've been worse for me if you'd gotten hurt."

Dib started at the phrase. He shook his head, embarrassed. "Don't do that." He sighed. Inside, though, he felt like laughing. There it was again. That strange happiness that had no real reason to exist. Sure the words and the fact that Zim seemed to mean them made him a bit, well, giddy. But this was different. He felt warm inside. It was almost the same feeling that he'd had on Earth before this whole thing started.

A sharp flash of movement off to his left made him jump. Red spasmed and twitched, blood bubbling from his exposed throat. Thankfully it was only the Irken's body shutting down. He collapsed back onto the floor and didn't move again.

Dib took a breath. "Come on." he said, walking up to Zim and holding his hand out. "Let's get out of here."

The Irken didn't respond. He kept his head down, staring at the floor again.

"Zim." Dib knew he sounded like a teacher when one of his students wasn't listening. Still nothing. "Hey!" He crouched down in front of the alien, catching him by what was left of his uniform collar. Zim let his head hit the glass. He was like a rag doll. The black recess where his left eye used to be was slowly filling with blood again. Some of the pale pink fluid ran over, making it look as though he were crying.

He wasn't looking at anything. His one remaining eye was slightly glassy. The only things that assured Dib that he was still alive were the soft, shallow breaths he heard and the fact that Zim would occasionally blink.

A harsh rush of anger filled him. Dib gritted his teeth and let go of Zim's collar. He stood and walked across the room, wrenching his tattered trench coat off and revealing the maze of scars on his arms.

"Hey!" he barked, standing by the twisted metal of the ventilation shaft. "Get up!" he waited. "Seriously, Zim, get up!" Nothing. The Irken showed no sign of even hearing him.

Dib sighed and rested a hand on the cold metal. "Zim, look at me." No reaction. But then again, he hadn't been expecting one. Fine. If he wasn't going to listen…

Dib curled his hand around a loose piece of the metal. Zim had saved him once. Maybe he'd do it again.

He hardly felt it at first. The metal bit into his skin with surprising ease. Blood dripped slowly from his fingers, pooling on the floor around his boots. He felt warm, but in a different way. It hurt now. Everything hurt. Dib's vision blurred even with his glasses. He hadn't hit anything major but he was bleeding a lot. More than he should be, he realised.

Distantly, he heard a soft sound. Low and quiet. Zim was laughing.

As the sound grew louder, Dib noticed how broken it seemed. It changed pitch often and it felt almost like Zim wasn't breathing properly. He took only gasping breaths in between waves of hysterical laughter. Then it suddenly changed to something else, a sound Dib thought only existed in horror movies.

It was so loud. He switched hands with the metal shard, slicing into his right arm over and over. Anything to keep him from focusing on it. The shrieks, the high, wild laughter that filled the room was completely inhuman. Any trace of the twisted, distorted form of sanity Zim once possessed was gone.

Dib looked up at him from where he stood, albeit a bit unsteadily, by the mass of metal that he was soon forced to lean against to keep from falling. He couldn't breathe. Tears stung his eyes, causing his vision to blur even more. He tightened his grip on the metal, feeling it slice into his hand. His vision started to fade and flicker. He felt the solid metal floor under his legs and then everything went dark.

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A/N- For anyone not paying attention here's a recap: Something just happened. Really quickly, Red killed Purple because he annoyed him, Zim destroyed Impending Doom 1 to spite Red, and the fight was too much for Zim to handle so he's a bit insane at the moment. Think Light Yagami at the end of Death Note kind of laugh.


	12. Twelve Malfunction

A/N- **I've run out of Zim-related opening statements. **Seriously, I have this time. I can't think of one. Sorry for the wait on this and I know it's a little short. I had fits with it the whole time and I'm still not happy with it. I've been trying to move and that's really stressful and, ya know… Also, this one is a little sickening. Right near the end. Just…gag.

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**Twelve-Malfunction**

The soft clicking of the keys slowly brought Dib out of his dreams. He had a terrible headache and he felt very cold inside, like he'd eaten ice cubes. But he was alive.

He turned his head to see Zim standing at one of the control panels. They were on the bridge again from the look of things. He must have carried him. The Irken was typing but appeared to be reading something on another screen as well. The eye patch over his left eye covered about half of his cheek as well, hiding the damage. Dib bit back the urge to make a 'Phantom of the Opera' joke.

Zim's uniform was still in tatters but he guessed there wasn't much he could do about that right now. He seemed very intent on whatever he was reading so rather than interrupt him Dib simply watched him and waited to be acknowledged. He didn't feel like talking much right then anyway. He was starting to feel sick.

"So, you're awake." Zim said without looking over at him.

"You saved me."

"I didn't do anything." It sounded harsh, bitter. The Irken never took his eyes from the green text scrolling across the screen. His antenna were flattened against his head and there was less of the typical light you see in someone's eyes when they're actually _there_. Zim seemed to be moving on muscle-memory alone, his mind completely elsewhere. If he'd managed to keep hold of it at all.

Dib held up an arm. It was wrapped in a bandage from his wrist to his elbow. It was an excellent field dressing, something else he was surprised Zim knew how to do. "I didn't do this myself." He stated needlessly.

Zim sighed heavily and turned to face him then. The soft glow of the computer screen illuminating him made him look almost ethereal for just a moment even in those blood-stained clothes. "You're an idiot." He hissed, shattering the illusion. "Just what the hell were you thinking?"

"You were catatonic!" Dib barked, sitting up. "And then you just started laughing like the psycho you are! You could've stopped me, you son of a bitch!" A stab of pain in his chest made him gasp and curl up slightly. Zim crouched down beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder and touching his arms.

"What is it?" he asked softly, a faint tinge of something resembling fear colouring his voice.

"I don't know." Dib managed, wincing. "Just really hurts all of a sudden." His voice was barely above a whisper and slightly strained. Zim wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. It was unexpected but Dib didn't argue. He laid his head on the Irken's scared chest. He noticed then that he could hear his heart beating. It was a strange, four-chambered beat that sounded far too loud just then.

Dib pressed Zim's left arm with his hands, sitting curled against him. The pain spiked across his ribs and made it difficult to breathe. It felt like something was clawing at him from the inside, ripping into his organs with sharp teeth and nails like needles.

Zim rested his cheek on the back of the human's head. Blood had dried in the boy's hair, giving it small spikes and crimson highlights here and there. The Irken kept one eye on the backlit screen, reading and rereading the page he'd stopped on.

It was a report for an Operation apparently led by Tak several years ago. She and a small team of researchers were sent to a planet on the very edge of Irken territory. Several days out, something…went wrong. Tak's logs were inconsistent and most of the audio was too badly distorted to really make anything out past about day twelve. Frustrating, to say the least.

All he'd gotten was that one of the scientists they'd brought along suddenly snapped and massacred his team. After that it was homicide after homicide up till the point he'd stopped reading. The last one. Tak's last log entry. It was painfully clear compared to the others, somehow kept in perfect condition after all those years.

The last entry…was Tak's suicide note.

Dib coughed harshly and gasped as the sharp pain in his chest brought a wave of nausea. A thin layer of translucent slime coated his throat, dripping from his mouth as he gagged into his hands. Zim pushed him forward slightly so that he was sitting up straighter and able to lean forward on his own. He kept his arms around the human, cursing himself. He should've remembered what would happen. His fault, all of it.

He felt Dib wretch and heard the slightly sickening sound of something wet hitting the metal floor. Pulling him back against his chest again, Zim kept Dib's head turned away from the spot on the floor. The boy choked faintly and wiped at his eyes. He'd been crying. It felt like he was burning and freezing all at once. The feeling of the heavy slime dripping from his mouth made him want to be sick again.

"What…?" he managed, his voice rough. His throat ached and burned like something had scratched it. He could taste blood as well, harsh and metallic, coating the back of his tongue. And _that_ taste was back. The one from the pond. But why?

Zim tightened his grip around him, pushing his hand into his hair and blocking his line of vision. The Irken himself couldn't seem to look away. The thing's body was twisted at odd angles, much like Red's had been. Slime coated it, making it shimmer faintly under the light from the computer screens.

It took him a second to fully realise that it was at most half-formed, leaving the ribcage and mal-formed organs exposed to the dry and suddenly too-heavy air. Its eyes, a jolting and painfully beautiful amethyst, were dull and lifeless, staring blankly back at him. Zim guessed that was a blessing. It hadn't suffered.

Lowering his head, he stifled a sob in Dib's shirt, quickly clenching his teeth and trying to stop the warm tears that ran across his face. The human twisted a bit, trying to see. Zim wrenched him back and locked his arms around him. It would be too much, he thought, if he knew right then what had happened.

But, as usual, Dib's observational skills were better than the Irken expected. It only took the brief glance he got of the small body to tell him everything. Why Zim was clinging to him, sobbing like his heart had been ripped out, why his own moods had been so strange, why Zim had been so protective of him, so concerned that he might get hurt.

He'd been pregnant.

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A/N- So, yeah. You see why this one gave me fits. I'll explain that, I promise. You didn't 'miss anything'.


	13. Thirteen Invaders Must Die

A/N- **The moral is that dreams always lead to hideous implosions. **Really. Psycho filler chapter. Kinda. I think, when I'm asleep, little elves and fairies come into my room and jam ideas up into my scull. Unfortunately, I woke up and sneezed, so this is kind of a filler chapter cause I knew I needed this scene but wasn't sure where to stick it. (Ha.) So it's here. And creepy in a low-key kinda way.

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**Thirteen-Invaders Must Die**

A miscarriage. That's what it was. Plain and simple.

He still couldn't get it through his head, even watching Zim carefully pick up what was there of the child. Its green skin was pale, nearly translucent in spots. It was stretched and twisted at odd angles, pulled tight across mal-formed bones and hanging in ragged strings over its misaligned ribcage.

Dib sat where he was on the floor, one hand pressed protectively against his internally bleeding throat, watching and forcing himself to breathe.

"How…?" he managed, his voice weak and strained, coming across as a stage whisper again. Speaking made his throat ache and he took a deep breath. Anything to keep from throwing up.

For a moment, Zim kept his head down, eyes closed. It seemed almost as though he were praying. Did Irk have a religion? Dib couldn't remember if he'd ever asked and now clearly wasn't the time to.

"Humans bodies weren't meant to carry Irken children." Zim's voice was hollow when he finally spoke, devoid of the earlier sorrow and pain, replaced by a cold detachment that made the younger man shiver.

"You know what I mean." Dib hadn't meant to bark, but he was angry, confused. "Is it yours?" He asked quietly, keeping his gaze on the floor between his hands. He already knew the answer. Zim would've only been that protective, and that heartbroken, if the child was his.

Zim paused. "Yes." No sense in lying to the poor boy, he guessed.

"How?" It was nearly an order. The Irken wrapped his arms tighter around the thing he held. The way he'd wrapped the blanket around it made it look as though it were merely sleeping, despite the fact of its eyes staring blankly up at nothing in particular.

"How the hell is that even possible? We're never…"

"Remember when you kissed me?"

"Oh, come on, that only happens in those old sci-fi movies." Dib snapped, then paused at the look he received. He sat back heavily, and sighed. "Thought that was all Hollywood. The whole passing an egg through a kiss thing."

"I forgot it wasn't species-relevant."

"Clearly." It sounded harsher then he'd really meant it to, but Dib had to admit it made him smile a little to see Zim flinch at the tone of his voice.

It's no more than he deserves, he thought. Dib caught the edge of the control panels and pulled himself to his feet, standing shakily. "Get up."

Standing and ordering Zim around was the last thing he wanted to do right then. He wanted to just curl up and sob, wait for the pain to fade. But Zim was the bigger problem for him right now. The alien was still crouched on the floor, still holding the small, lifeless body as though it were only asleep. Somehow that unnerved him. Zim had never been the most stable individual he'd known.

A second later, the Invader proved his point.

"You'll wake her." He murmured, his one remaining eye fixed on the blood and slime coated thing.

Dib sighed. He was exhausted. His throat and chest still ached and with the level of emotional pain that clung to him like a wet blanket, he was just tired of everything.

"Zim." He hissed. "It's dead." Somehow those words hurt more than he'd expected. He started to think then. What if it was his fault? Was it because he fell? Because of the blood loss? He shook his head. The thing was only half-formed. There was no way this was his fault. His body wasn't designed to handle it, that's all.

And Zim knew.

That one hurt the worst. The whole time, he'd known it would die. And he'd still tried to keep it safe. He'd still…

Dib lowered his head, his lip drawn up in a snarl. That's why he didn't tell him. He'd known it was pointless.

"Get up." Dib told him again. Zim didn't move. Not surprising. The human dug his nails into his hands. He wouldn't cry here. He wouldn't feel sorry for someone who put him through nearly all of the emotional trauma he'd ever endured. He refused to.

He just lost his daughter, the gentle part of his mind told him. How would you feel?

I know how I feel.

A clatter from somewhere off in the distance jolted Dib out of his thoughts. That's right, he thought, the crew's still here. He looked down at the Invader again then up at the map on one of the screens. The sounds were coming from the hydroponics bay.

So they could either wait here to be found and probably eaten or they could go and get rid of these things before they had a chance to get to them. Lord knew he didn't need another wound like the one in his shoulder. He doubted Zim would be coherent enough to help him if it happened again.

Looking back at the alien, Dib felt that same harsh rush of anger that Zim must have felt when he'd nearly strangled him in the hanger. Dib growled softly, catching Zim by the arm, wrenching him to his feet and dragging him until he started to walk on his own. The Irken kept his other arm locked tightly around the child and Dib was in no mood to try and take it from him.

He pulled the other through the door and down the hallway toward the noises. Faintly, he heard Zim singing softly. Rather to himself or to the child, he wasn't sure. Either way, it was unsettling.

"Old friends is true friends, they're the friends you love the best. You never know with new friends. Old friends is best." Dib found himself singing along softly as they walked. A loud shriek from the other end of the hall made him stop.

He realised somewhere in the back of his mind that this was probably the stupidest thing he'd ever done. He didn't even have anything to fight with, save for Zim's handgun that he wasn't sure he knew how to use. And he wasn't sure he cared much at this point. He'd never felt like this before. Anger and pain were both things he was very used to, but never like this. It felt like his heart had been ripped out.

He tried to keep himself from thinking that that just might happen if he wasn't careful walking through that door.

********************************************

A/N- Didn't see that one comin', did ya? Unsettling, isn't it? And it only gets worse.


	14. Fourteen Situation Critical

A/N- Good to be back. ^.^ I still have a little 'me' work to do and I'm not sure I'll be too consistent while all that's going on but, uh… Here? I'm sorry for just disappearing like that. Minor personal crisis. I've spent a while pulling at random story threads trying to find this one and I think I got it. (At least for this chapter.) But I can't be sure because it's like five thirty in the morning. If I'm a little less than articulate at times it's just because I'm very tired and the keyboard is getting closer and closer ksjadcsjbsjknf.

Oh, yeah. Warning: Smart Zim.

* * *

**Fourteen-Situation Critical**

"Yeah, I didn't need help or anything. I'm totally fine!" Dib slung the metal pipe so that it connected with the wall just above the Irken's head._ "Will you put that fucking thing down?!" _

Zim flinched at the sound of the pipe striking the wall. He looked up from the thing in the blanket with a slightly shocked expression. Dib growled low in his throat. The alien had been cleaning what was left of the child like a cat would clean her kittens. Most of the blood and slime had been cleaned off, revealing just how mangled the body really was.

Dib physically stepped back at the sight, swallowing hard to keep from vomiting. Again.

He sighed. "Just get up. We need to move." This was getting annoying. Obnoxious idiot Zim was better than this. He'd spent most of his time dragging the Irken around the ship and trying to keep him from getting eaten. Charming. The trouble was what to do now. He didn't exactly know his way around this place and it was clear that Zim would be no help at all in the state he was in.

Dib sighed heavily. Trying to stay mad like this was just wearing him out. Well, that and lack of food. He crouched down in front of the alien and held his hand out. "Come on." He said softly. "I'm not gonna hurt you." He told him when Zim looked up at him like they'd never met before, ruby eyes wide and unsure.

Slowly, he reached out and caught the alien's hand. Zim didn't try to snatch his hand back so Dib pulled him to his feet.

"You'll be alright, huh?" he asked quietly. Zim cocked his head at him, picking up his antenna. He looked very young right then.

Oh well. There wasn't much he could do with him right now. Dib left him standing there as he moved to a metal pillar near the centre of the room. He couldn't really read any of the text but he knew enough about diagrams and schematics to figure out where they were and how to get to the main controls. If there was any power left, they might be able to at least point this thing in the direction of home.

Dib almost laughed. 'Home' hadn't been 'home' in almost a year.

"Most of the doors are locked, you know." Zim's accent was heavier but it was hearing his voice at all that startled Dib the most. "You'll need the key or you'll have to hack the system."

"And I take it you don't have the key." Dib stepped away from the console and let Zim see the screen. As the Irken started to type, Dib realised he wasn't carrying the baby anymore. It was lying near the wall, still wrapped in its blanket.

This was too easy. There was no way Zim would just give up like that. He had being stubborn down to an art. It was just who he was. But now…Now, he'd changed again.

A sudden stab of pain made Dib's breath catch. The wound in his shoulder had been burning. He'd assumed it was just because he'd had to use his arm in the fights but now he wasn't so sure. His throat and lower jaw hurt too, almost like he'd been burned.

Must be something going wrong in his nervous system. He froze, then glanced at Zim who apparently hadn't noticed him. That was it, wasn't it? The Pak. It was linked in to the Control Brains. From what he'd been able to read on the computer screen when he'd woken up, there had been a global infection of some kind. If the Control Brains were still active and still sending signals...

They were screwing with his personality. The infection was causing the walls between stored, defective personalities to break down and the memories and defining characteristics were bleeding through into possibly the only active Pak left.

A soft chirp called his attention back to the room. Zim actually jumped and laughed like a kid with a new toy. "I got it." His voice was different, slightly higher and clearer.

"You sound like a girl." Dib murmured before he could stop himself.

"Well, we don't technically have a gender. We're kind of whichever one we want to be at any given time." Zim's voice was somewhere between his normal tone and Tak's voice without the accent. He sounded much younger, like a hyper-intelligent ten-year-old might sound. He shrugged. "We just kinda pick one."

"I…didn't know that." Dib wasn't sure how to respond to that.

"Well, why would you? You never really took the time to learn anything about me. True, you can learn things from dissection…But it doesn't tell you much about the culture, the social structure…or anything really."

Alright, this proved his theory. This one was way too smart to be Zim. Dib almost said so but stopped himself at the last minute. This one was too smart to be Zim and that also meant that they were smart enough to take offense to things. Well, appropriately, at least.

"So," Dib started then fished for words, "Who are you?"

Zim stopped typing but left his hands on the keyboard. He cocked his head as though he were thinking then lowered it a bit, tensing his shoulders, expression unreadable.

"No one really." He said softly, his voice taking on an entirely different quality. "Just a memory."

"What are you talking about?" Not that Dib ever really knew what Zim was talking about but this was different. Really, everything about this was different. In the course of the last few months he'd gone who knew how far across the universe with someone he was supposed to hate, got bitten by some kind of deformed… _thing _and essentially had a miscarriage from an egg he'd swallowed after kissing that space boy.

And just why the hell had he even done that anyway? He was what, 17 now? Did he really not have himself under better control by now? His thoughts were cut short by a soft sigh that sounded entirely too human.

"I don't really know either." Zim had been sorting through the fragments of memories he'd been seeing in his mind's eye the entire time they'd been aboard The Massive. Now he only had a vague recollection of some kind of tube he was placed in. It wasn't like being born. It was… painful. He'd been suspended in fluid, held by wires and tubes that ran deep into his veins.

Zim shivered a bit and shook his head. He glanced sideways at Dib and noticed that the boy was still holding his injured shoulder. "Does that still hurt?"

Dib's hand tightened on his arm. "Not so much anymore." He was lying but he had enough to worry about. His entire view of the Irken had changed in an instant. Now that curiosity that had so often gotten him into trouble was tapping him on the shoulder again. "And you never answered me."

Zim didn't miss a beat. "I did answer you." He said calmly. "It's just not the answer you were expecting."

The human cocked his head, the one lock of raven-black hair that had been constantly falling in his face since middle school lying almost gracefully over one eye. "Now I know you're not Zim."

In response the Irken held up a hand, tapered fingers visible through the badly torn gloves. "That's were you're wrong." He dropped his hand and sighed. "It's a long story."

"Okay, but my curfew's at ten." He was shocked when Zim actually got the joke, laughing softly as he leaned back against the console. He really was attractive, Dib mused looking him up and down. The soft light from the screen behind him coupled with the ripped uniform let him see just how well-defined the alien's muscles were. What was left of his uniform showed quite a bit of taut green skin, really.

Dib cleared his throat, resisting the urge to shake his head. Zim laughed quietly before looking back over his shoulder at the screen. "Apparently," he began, "I'm not even supposed to exist."

"I hope you have an actual explanation for that one." Dib told him, grateful for the distraction. At least until Zim's one good eye shifted to look at him. The Irken didn't move for several moments but stayed leaned back against the console, arms crossed over his chest, long legs crossed at the ankles, pinning Dib with a strangely seductive ruby-red glare.

"I do." Zim looked away, breaking the spell and letting Dib breathe again. He looked straight ahead and spoke slightly slower than normal, carefully as though the words left a bad taste in his mouth. "Red was… worried about the military. He always thought that we were getting too weak, that he was the only one fit for service. He commissioned the scientists to…" Zim sighed heavily, "…clone him."

"A clone?" Dib repeated. "You…"

"I was the first. But it wasn't… right. He wouldn't lose me as a research subject but he told me every chance he got that I could never take his place. I wasn't worth anything to him but…" Zim trailed off and swallowed hard.

"I- I don't know what to say, Zim. I'm sorry." Dib really did have no idea what to say. It explained Zim's apparent delusions of grandeur. He was programmed for it. But to do what Red did… it was just… unforgivable.

Dib thought about reaching out and laying his hand on the Irken's shoulder but he wasn't sure how the gesture might be taken. Just then the screen behind Zim flickered and went dark. The ship lurched forward and Dib felt the familiar pressure against his body. They were moving.

"You fixed it?" he asked, unable to believe it.

"Just the propulsion system." Zim answered casually as he walked toward the door, tattered coat swinging behind him. "Come on. We'll watch from the bridge." There was a light, almost playful tone to his voice then. He sounded very young again and Dib felt his heart flutter a bit. He spared a quick glance to his side, making sure the 'baby' was still there. The blanket was right where Zim had left it, making him wonder again just why in the world he'd given up so easily.

Dib shook his head and followed the Irken. He was fairly sure he was an expert at getting lost on a ship like this and he didn't want Zim thinking he was an idiot.

This whole thing was insane enough without switching their roles too.

* * *

A/N- I'm back. Some minor explanation goin' on here. So, yeah.


	15. Fifteen Down with the Sickness

A/N- **Please read me! **Now that I have your attention: Later this year, I'll have a DeviantArt account. I'm telling you this because it will allow you, the fans, to purchase things from me. (Feel honored!) I have a list of things I want to do and sell but it's too long for me to put here. (There's a lot of stuff.) BUT. I will be selling novels and short story collections, either as a PDF in a zip file, as a normal hardback (or possibly paperback for a little less) book, or as a hand-bound and signed copy. (Pick your poison.)

Anyway, it'll be a while before any of that (probably October). Until then, enjoy my work on here, chat with me, tell your friends. I always like to hear from fans.

* * *

**Fifteen – Down with the Sickness**

Stars. Millions of them streamed past the large windows around them. Dib carefully stepped unto the raised platform in the centre of the room as Zim kept busy at a nearby console. From the brief glimpse he'd gotten of the math on the back-lit screen, he guessed Zim was running the speed calculations.

"You should be careful walking around with that wound," the Irken told him without glancing up. "These things can smell warm blood."

"Just what are those things anyway? You never really answered me." Dib knew it was risky to provoke someone as unpredictable as Zim, especially now with his mood and personality changing so often.

"It's…a virus." Zim swiveled the chair to face him. "An infection. From what I've been able to piece together, an underground research lab on Irk was used for biological experiments without the Tallest's knowledge. When Red found out, he ordered the base destroyed. Apparently, the shock wave spread the virus into the atmosphere and over most of the planet. They had no warning…they never had a chance." Zim clenched his gloved hands at the last, looking back out the large window. The realisation that it was over, that he was all that was left, hit him like a bullet to the heart.

"Hey," Dib risked taking a step closer, pulling the alien from his thoughts. "Then how'd they get up here?"

Zim turned to him and seemed about to answer when the screens behind him suddenly filled with static and went blank. A loud cracking sound followed by the unmistakable groan of metal bending made Dib press his hands over his ears. The overhead lighting flickered once, twice, and then shorted out completely. The emergency lighting from underneath the consoles gave the bridge a slightly eerie feel. Dib felt like he was in a bad horror movie again.

Everything was quiet then and neither moved for a few long moments. Zim slowly stood from his chair and took a step forward. He froze midstride and looked up at Dib.

"Watch," he told him, and jumped. Only he didn't come back down.

Dib blinked at the alien as Zim gently kicked as thought he were swimming, moving easily around the room suspended in midair.

"How…" he started and then caught himself. "The gravity's off, isn't it?"

Zim tapped him on the head before landing gracefully on the top of the console he'd been working from. "I don't know. You tell me."

Dib rolled his eyes but moved to the edge of the raised platform he was still standing on. One short step left him hanging just a few inches over the floor. He fought the urge to kick and scrabble for something to hold onto, trying to avoid looking like a fool for as long as possible.

"It's more like low-gravity, not zero-gravity." Zim commented just as Dib felt his feet touch the floor again. He blinked up at the alien for a few moments before looking up at the catwalk that ran around the edge of the room about twenty feet up.

"Race ya."

* * *

They'd lost track of time fairly quickly after that, jumping and floating around the bridge after one another and laughing like they used to back in skool. Dib had completely forgotten his injuries by then and was several paces ahead of Zim, moving toward the next room when the Irken slammed a spider-leg into the floor just in front of him.

The metal caught him hard across the chest from his right shoulder to his left hip. He stepped back and dropped to his knees with a sharp hiss.

"Jeez, Zim," he managed, clutching his wounded shoulder again. When the Irken didn't respond, he turned to look up at him. Zim was staring straight ahead, past the centre pillar and down ever so slightly.

Dib leaned forward, holding on to the spider-leg for support. The pathway ended abruptly in a sharp drop to the floor below. Even though he would've slid on the curved walls, he still could've gotten hurt, even in low gravity. Still, Zim didn't need to stop him so roughly. Unless…

"Zim?" he whispered, curious and more than a little anxious.

"You're a fan of Lovecraft, right?" It was an odd question but Dib still answered.

"All my life." He drew his hands back as Zim pulled the slightly battle-damaged spider-leg back into his Pak.

"They're called Lurkers," he told him, never taking his gaze from the room in front of them. "They wait for someone to get within range and then…"

Dib didn't mind him trailing off. He understood perfectly well. The longer he looked, the more of them he saw. They were small creatures resembling newborn babies, each with several tentacles wriggling on its back. They seemed to swarm over the curved walls like cockroaches, the unnatural movement of them sending a cold shiver down his spine.

Zim shifted beside him, pulling a small handgun from an inner-thigh holster. He stepped forward, placing the edge of his boot heel against the top of the wall below them.

"What are you doing?" Dib hissed, catching him by his tattered coat.

"Do you think you could sleep knowing these things were loose?"

"And what can you do? Look at them all."

"There's an airlock recessed into the far wall. The force screen will keep you safe as long as you stay in the hallway. See the ridges in the wall over there? They channel it so that not everything in the room is pulled into space. As long as you're on top of one of those ridges, you're safe."

Dib dropped his hand. "That's at least sixty feet," he said, looking out at the centre pillar. "There's no way you can jump that."

"I don't have to."

Dib thought for a moment before he noticed the gun in Zim's hand. "Law of Inverse Recoil," he gasped, a bit impressed that Zim had thought about it before he did.

"You're pretty smart…for a human." Zim smirked at the last, turning and aiming the gun down the hallway. "*Et es prave det Ya hend sendet ses polmen dort de hoved se min taves vanderse," he recited before pulling the trigger and jumping into the room.

"An yet Ya espere te skove met das statense det Ya es ne hanse morder." Dib finished, surprised he still remembered it after so long. The creatures swarmed along the walls, jumping onto the pillar. Zim pegged one of them in the head, jumping back with the recoil and landing high on the opposite wall.

Dib pressed against the cold metal of the hallway, braced for whatever might happen. He barely heard the soft click above the screeching of those…things. A heavy, metallic cracking followed and soon enough he felt the air slowly drain from the room.

Zim could've warned him to hold his breath, he thought as his lungs started to burn. The rush as the air was forcibly pulled from the room in the next instant actually caused his heart to skip a beat. He wasn't sure what was going on. He couldn't hear anything anymore and he was starting to feel lightheaded.

Suddenly he could breathe again. Dib collapsed on the floor, coughing and gasping. He wasn't used to holding his breath like that and it felt like his lungs were on fire.

"Okay there, Lovecraft?" Zim asked a little too cheerfully as he jumped back into the hallway, landing in a crouch at Dib's side.

"Shut up," the human gasped, punching him in the arm and muttering, "Asshat."

The sharp trilling of an alarm cut Zim off. The two exchanged a glance and got to their feet, heading back to the bridge. The gravity was still low and that made the trip a little easier. Dib found himself leaning on Zim more than he really wanted to. That pain in his jaw was back again.

* * *

A/N- *It is true that I have sent six bullets through the head of my best friend, and yet I hope to show by this statement that I am not his murderer. (This is actually written in Alphistian, which is a constructed language.)

Yeah. I'm…out of things to say. It's almost four in the morning here and I'm tired and starving. I hope you appreciate this. Tave nauste. (Good night.)


	16. Sixteen Endgame

A/N- **Finally. **I'm sorry. This took me forever to do. I've been trying to get a lot of stuff squared away in a very short amount of time (I'm moving across the country in about 18 days so my TV's sitting on two metal crates and I'm sleeping on a couch) and I'm just ...stressed. Anyway….Soylent Green is Irkens! (If you don't get that joke...oh well.)

Also, it's probably not the best idea to read this while you're eating something. But what do I know?

* * *

**Sixteen – Endgame**

"Any reason why that's so loud?" Dib asked irritably, hands clamped firmly over his ears as he cringed against the blaring siren.

"It had to be heard throughout the ship." Zim pressed several keys and the alarm gradually faded out until it stopped completely.

"What was that about?"

"Looks like they hit the landing gear."

"Who? The Lurkers?" Dib stepped up onto the platform at Zim's side. Moving made his shoulder ache but his curiosity tended to get the better of him in situations like this.

"They got tangled in the lower engines," Zim read as several solid lines of text scrolled across the screen.

"Can we still fly?"

"We can fly," Zim told him, "We just can't land."

"So we'll crash if we try to." It wasn't a question. Dib thought for a moment, moving toward the large window and watching the stars. They must've been moving at an incredible rate, he mused. He wasn't quite sure if either of them would actually survive a crash landing at this speed. Earth's atmosphere would slow them down but it probably wouldn't be enough.

"How long until we get back?"

"Only about a week." The Irken took his hands from the keyboard. "It's your call," he said softly. His voice was nearly back to its normal pinched hiss and such a submissive statement seemed very out of place.

"My call?" That was unexpected. Although maybe losing everything had been enough of a shock to finally snap Zim out of that delusional mindset of his. He had looked after him the entire time they'd been out here, after all. Though, to be fair, he couldn't be sure how much of that was Zim and how much of it was just the other personalities bleeding through.

"There are still planets that are sympathetic to the Empire. But I don't know how long decent repairs would take."

"And we'd be stuck out here even longer. Not to mention the fact that landing anywhere else would be a risk. Letting those creatures loose on another planet?" He turned back to face the Irken then, feeling strangely stronger now that he'd been freely given his say in the matter. "No. We stay on-course."

He was expecting a fight, even though his tone had left no room for argument. Zim had always been combative, but with the recent personality swings he could never really be sure what to expect.

Strangely, Zim simply returned to typing without another word. Dib listened to the clicking of the keys for several minutes before tuning it out and letting his mind wander. He thought back on everything, his life, his family, all those childish ambitions he used to cling to for dear life. They were all gone.

It was a dull shock to realise just how empty he really felt. It was then that he started to focus on how tired he was. Everything hurt. His legs ached from running, he hadn't eaten right in probably a few months, and the dull ache in his shoulder had spread into his jaw and had been getting steadily worse. It was more of a sharp burn now and it was starting to make him just the slightest bit nervous. Whether it was just his natural paranoia or not, he couldn't be sure but he vaguely remembered reading about alien viruses. Granted, it was in Crop Circles Magazine but the subject matter had been interesting enough to remain in his mind all these years.

Dib sat down on the edge of the platform, keeping his legs curled just off to his side so that he was leaning on his right hip. Normally it would've been very uncomfortable but right then it was the only way he could sit without his legs burning. He looked up, catching sight of his reflection in the expanse of glass in front of him. But this time it was different. This time it was really him instead of that delusional 'second self' he'd been seeing off and on the entire trip.

He was a mess, he realised. The silver buckles on his boots had either been ripped off or were so covered by blood you couldn't even tell they were there. The jeans were ripped here and there, revealing deep bruises, and what remained of his shirt clung to him from a mixture of blood and sweat. His brushed a hand through his hair, finding small, sharp spikes in it. The strands felt greasy and crisp from what was most likely his own blood.

_Humans don't take damage well, _he thought, glancing back at Zim. Yes it was clear the alien was injured but he looked almost…heroic, whereas Dib just looked like he'd been in a bad fight.

He turned back toward the window, resting his head in his hand and closing his eyes for a minute. He was in pain but he wasn't tired. He'd have to sleep before the week was out but it was about the last thing he wanted to do right then.

For a moment, everything was quiet again. Dib realised he could hear his blood flowing through the veins near his ears just like he used to when he was younger and trying to sleep at night. Eventually, he'd give up on sleeping and go back to work, ensuring that he was dehydrated, starving and nursing a headache by the time skool started.

A soft scent, (which he recognised instantly as the alien equivalent to cologne or body spray that Zim always wore) reached him and he opened his eyes to find the Irken crouching next to him. There was a small tray in the alien's hand, held out to him in a bored kind of way. Dib carefully took the tray from Zim's hand and waited until the other had settled beside him, stretched out on his stomach, before he even looked down at what he'd been handed.

It was a small square, about four inches across, and from Dib could see in the low light it was tinged a faint green colour.

"Where…?" he started but Zim expertly cut him off.

"Emergency rations." Zim let one hand hang off the edge of the platform. He waited until Dib carefully took a bite of the soft green substance before he said, "Tastes horrible, too."

Dib casually turned his head away from Zim and spat, causing the Irken to laugh. "Now, was it that bad?" he asked, still giggling as Dib scraped his tongue across his arm, making small gagging sounds in his throat.

"Yeah, it really was," he snapped. The block itself hadn't been that bad. The problem was whatever was apparently in it. It was warm and tasted way too close to human blood for comfort. He set the tray aside before he started to wonder too much about what Irkens did with the races they conquered.

Zim crossed his long arms under his head and stared out the window while Dib collected himself. His thoughts wandered this way and that, never really focused on any one thing. There were snatches of conversations he didn't remember having with people he was sure he'd never met, memories of staying up all night painting or writing or talking with friends. And none of it made any sense. It was jumbled and chaotic, all rushing at once.

A soft touch near one of his antenna jolted him out of his nonsensical thoughts. Dib pulled his hand back as if afraid he'd get bitten. Zim glared up at him for a moment or two before simply lowering his head again and closing his eyes. He was just too tired to complain right then.

Dib waited until Zim's eyes had closed before he dared to relax. For a moment he'd honestly thought Zim would bite him. The growl that had formed in the Irken's throat at the unexpected touch wasn't entirely unlike that of an Earth dog.

Slowly he reached out again, brushing his fingertips across the soft antenna. It was such a strange thing. It was very soft, almost velvety to the touch and far too flexible to feel natural. Zim flinched at first but quickly relaxed at the gentle touch. Unknowingly, he started to purr.

The sound was nearly inaudible at first, akin to a cat's purr, gradually growing louder as Zim relaxed against his side. It was peaceful here, far from the almost certain death that had been hanging over their heads all this time. Dib slowly wrapped his other arm around his stomach, thinking. A child. He'd carried a child. The full force of that hit him then, causing a strange ache in his heart.

He'd lost his daughter. It was that thought that made him pull his hand back from Zim's antenna and hug himself hard, feeling suddenly cold. He'd lost his little girl.

Dib lowered his head and closed his eyes, finally breaking down and letting the tears fall. Zim never stirred beside him and he could only guess that the alien was asleep (or something similar). He pressed his hand over his mouth, stifling sobs that made his throat burn. He couldn't explain it. This pain, this ache in his chest wasn't like anything he'd ever felt before. It wasn't a physical pain, it was…deeper. It hurt worse than anything he'd ever been through but on an entirely different level.

At a loss and feeling more alone than he ever had, Dib laid his head on Zim's spine, stretching out beside him and closing his eyes. Right then, he just needed to sleep.

* * *

Dib shifted in his sleep. It was a strange noise that flickered just on the edge of hearing that kept him partially awake. A soft, strange noise, like raindrops on a tin roof. Gradually it seemed to get louder. Or maybe he was just focusing on it more. He wasn't sure he really cared all that much. It was warm here and he felt safe. He hadn't even tossed and turned like he usually did.

The sounds quieted and Dib drifted back into that hazy world between waking and dreaming.

It was suddenly very warm, almost uncomfortable. Dib curled up tighter and brought his arm across his face. The smell of death, of rot and decay burned his sinuses, making his throat constrict.

Dib's eyes snapped open and he looked up into the milky-white eyes of the thing hanging above him. The Leaper's jaws were wide open and he could hear it breathing, a loud staticy hiss that seemed even more unnatural than the thing it was coming from. Before he had time to scream, the Leaper was gone, hooked in what remained of its neck by Zim's sharp claws. Dib picked his head up to find the Irken standing over him like a guard dog and snarling low in his throat, damaged antenna laid back against his head.

"Zim?" The boy's voice shook badly. It was like all of his emotional switches had been flipped on and suddenly he could really feel things again. And he was scared to death.

The Irken didn't respond. Zim snapped his head up with a feral snarl, enhanced vision catching sight of the other Leapers climbing around on the upper level. Out of the corner of his right eye he saw Dib shift on the ground, moving to stand. They'd have to run. Zim doubted, for the first time really doubted, that he could fight his way out of this. There were just too many of them.

The sharp, painful yelp that reached him then caused him to jump, whirling to face the source of the sound. The sight of Dib still curled up on the floor brought his adrenaline levels down a few clicks, for the moment anyway. At least the boy didn't seem to be hurt.

Dib was leaning on his right arm, clutching at his leg with the opposite hand. He was clearly in pain but none of the Leapers had been close enough to touch him.

The Leapers.

Zim looked carefully over the human's legs. With only the emergency lights, he could barely see it. A thin membrane had grown through the boy's jeans, fusing his legs together. It was the beginning of a Leaper tail.

Dib looked up at him. Zim wasn't quite sure what to make of the expression he saw in his eyes. Fear. Pain. Uncertainty. He knew all of them but somehow he'd never seen them expressed so clearly in the eyes of a human.

That single moment, a moment which lasted only the space of a few heart beats, seemed to drag on for hours. Zim raised a hand and spoke. It was a short sentence, probably an order to stay put, but Dib couldn't understand it. Any of it. All he heard were the soft clicks and hisses that the real language was probably comprised of. He realised then that Zim had most likely been speaking through a translator when they'd first met. Dib hadn't noticed his Irken accent then. It would've made sense that as Zim picked up English from interacting with them he would've shut off the translator to save energy.

It was a bad sign that the Irken wasn't bothering to humanise the language for Dib anymore.

Dib didn't really remember much after that. A sharp, stabbing pain in his jaw forced him to shut his eyes, making him curl in on himself and swallow hard to keep from vomiting. It felt like someone driving an ice pick through his jaw. He could only faintly hear the sounds of a fight. It wasn't at all clear who was winning but Zim must have kept him safe because the entire time he was curled up on the floor, nothing touched him.

He almost wished it had. He almost wished one of them had come along and simply ripped his throat out. Anything to stop the pain. He wasn't sure how long he spent lying there. If it was minutes or years, he wasn't sure it would've felt much different.

A gentle touch on his shoulder startled him. Zim was there, crouched at his side and covered in scratches and blood. The Irken had one hand placed firmly on his shoulder as if to anchor him there. Dib could faintly see his reflection in Zim's one remaining eye. He was a wreck and he knew it, felt it inside and out.

Dib's gaze flickered to the gun in the holster strapped to the Irken's leg. It was the quickest way out, he reasoned, but he wasn't sure of the Irken view of suicide and still wasn't sure Zim would trust him enough to give him the gun, even in the state he was in.

The alien set his hand on the back of his neck, looking him in the eyes but not speaking. That look told him _I know what you're thinking_ but not much else though he seemed to understand the reason behind the boy's thoughts.

Dib didn't have much time to linger on that. A sudden, stabbing pain made him clench his teeth hard enough to crack several of them. Raising a hand to try and stop the bleeding, he froze. Something wet and slightly sticky touched his skin. It wasn't blood. It was cold and very thick. Dib pulled his arm back to find small bits of blackened, dead flesh clinging to his hand.

Zim cringed as the boy twisted away and wretched. He could see the human's teeth were already changing too, forming the four long distinctive fangs. The skin around his mouth was already starting to rot. He was, in effect, dying from the outside in.

Dib wrapped an arm around his stomach. He wanted to throw up again but there was nothing left. He couldn't close his mouth anymore without stabbing through his upper lip. It felt like he was burning inside.

The single bullet smashing into his skull was a relief. The human fell back, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. As Zim stood nearby, handgun still trained on the boy, he saw his eyes begin to rot.

* * *

Dib was lighter than Zim had expected and carrying him down to the cryo-storage units wasn't nearly as daunting a task as he'd originally thought. The ID PAK that Zim had attached to his back would keep him unconscious but 'alive' until the landing. If he had to be like this, it might be nice to let Dib join in the destruction of his own world, whether the human was aware of it or not.

Now, sitting in the pilot's chair, the silence of the Armada's flagship was truly deafening. But the coordinates were set and their course was locked. Even if he were killed now, the ship would crash into Earth, near the heart of the city he and Dib had grown up in.

Dib. His rival. The only person in the universe he had ever connected with. Strangely, he didn't feel like a killer. Not for this. No. This was mercy. Something you only did for people you respected, admired...loved. And was it love? Zim couldn't be sure. Emotions were such complex things, indestructible at times but so fragile that the slightest tap could shatter them at others.

Zim sat back in the chair, placing one long, lithe leg over the other. He would never understand humans. After a moment or two, he felt a smirk tug at the corner of his mouth, like it used to all those years ago when he was still himself; when he was still the proud Irken Invader he'd always believed himself to be. For a moment he was back there, giddy and eager, ready to jump in and cause as much destruction as he could.

For the first time in a very long time he felt…alive.

* * *

A/N- Oh Noes! :O Poor Dib. (For the record, I love Dib. It hurt me to kill him. It did. That's part of why this took so long.)

Yeah. Anyway. There it is. There're only about two more chapters left. Which may get done before I leave. Remember I could only work on this thing when I was feeling bad? I've been feeling pretty bad lately.


	17. Notice

Notice: Thank you for noticing this new notice. Your noticing it has been noted.

Seriously guys, I think I'll have to stop this here. I just doubt I'll ever be able to finish this story. It wasn't well planed from the beginning and I think that shows. I just have no idea where I could go with it that wouldn't feel like I was just writing to the word count.

This is what happens when you're finally a little bit happy: you lose your drive. That's why so many artists are depressed. Many of them are wounded. To calm themselves and stay the emotional bleeding, they create. But when the wound has healed, the pain faded with time and the memory yellowed with age, nothing is ever normal again. You lack the drive, the survival instinct, to create.

That was rather poetic, wasn't it? I do apologise for this but as of now, I'm stopping work on this story. I won't take it down just in case but this may well be the end of the line. At least on my end. Feel free to take the rest of it in whatever direction you want, even if you just use it as a writing exercise.

Hey, there's an idea. Nothing I could ever do would please everyone. Everyone has their own version of this story in their heads. I'd love to see it brought out.

I have a lot of my own work to do but I may be around from time to time. Don't forget me, okay? :love:

~MJV


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